


Katie & Marcus

by RosevalleyNB



Series: Unconventional, Almost Unlikely [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Attempt at Humor, F/M, Loss of Virginity, One Night Stands, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-18
Updated: 2015-01-05
Packaged: 2018-02-17 21:50:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 50,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2324396
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RosevalleyNB/pseuds/RosevalleyNB
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angie and Ally knew that Katie would never say 'no' to a dare. It was always a matter of misplaced sense of pride for their friend and the girls always knew how to exploit that. </p>
<p>Katie knew that she was as crazy as her friends when she uttered the words that would change the course of her whole life. </p>
<p>“Fine. I’m in.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. And so it begins...

**Author's Note:**

> Usual disclaimers apply; anything recognisable belongs to their rightful owner(s). I’m just playing around in the world JK Rowling has created.

“Oh, come on! Don’t tell me that you haven’t done that either?” Angelina slurred a bit too loudly. Wine always made her louder than she already was, and tonight was no exception.

 

It was Friday night at the Leaky and in two days, Katie had to board the Hogwarts Express again to start the second term of her seventh year. At the time, it had seemed such a great idea to have a last drink with her friends before she left. And as usual, she was already regretting it because once again, the girls had left their manners and filters at home.

 

Alicia and Angelina had finished school last year and had signed on as reserve Chasers for the Magpies. They led the lives Katie could only dream of, namely playing Quidditch professionally. In a few months, over the Easter Holiday, open try-outs for the various teams in the Premier League would take place again, and Katie planned on participating in each and every one of them. Getting selected for a professional team was her only goal at the moment, much to her parents' frustration. They would rather see her settled into a safe and predictable Ministry job as they had.

 

However, all that was still in the future. Tonight was all about getting sloshed before she had to study her arse off to pass at least one or two N.E.W.T.s. The empty bottles of wine on the table were a testament to that resolution and Katie couldn’t deny that she was beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol. Blurting out things about her personal life, or the lack thereof despite knowing better than to entrust her friends with that information, for example.

 

“Keep it down, you hag! Not everyone has to hear this.” Katie eyed the several men sitting at the tables around them. The way some of them watched her and her friends, and even licked their lips while doing so, gave her the shudders. They weren’t exactly Witch Weekly front-page material. In fact, they seemed like the types you'd expect on the MLE’s ‘Most Wanted’ posters.

 

“You can’t blame her. You've dated McLaggen for how long? And all you managed were a few kisses and literally one finger under your shirt.” Alicia cackled as she clapped her hands. “What did you do all those months? Pass notes and hold hands?”

 

Katie shook her head, failing to see the humour in it. “His hands were freezing. I nearly jumped out my skin when he touched me.”

 

Her friends burst into another fit of giggles while Katie merely shrugged and took a big gulp from her goblet. McLaggen was a nice enough, good looking bloke, as long as he kept his mouth shut and stayed in his corner. And the kissing itself hadn’t been all that bad. If you were the kind that liked boys slobbering all over your face and choking you with pushing their tongue down your throat. So, if you were into that, the kissing wasn’t bad. As it turned out, Katie wasn’t into that. She liked her face dry after a snog and was rather fond of her ability to breathe, thank you very much.

 

Dating him was a mistake, she had known from the moment he’d asked her out. But, being the pushover that she was, she hadn’t dared to say no. After two months of doing her best to avoid being alone with him and that awful shot at a kiss, they’d finally parted ways just before the Christmas holiday. His attempt to put his hand under her shirt had given her the final push. The idea of him wanting to put his cold hands on another part of her body beside her hands, without any barrier at that, had freaked her out. So much, in fact, that she had kneed him in reflex, there where it hurt the most. Safe to say, that had been the exact moment their short-lived romance had ended.

 

If one could call it a romance that is.

 

Katie didn’t think that holding hands and avoiding each other as much as possible was the right definition of that. Not according to the romance novels she liked to read, at least.

 

“You know what your problem is, love?” Angelina’s motherly tone didn’t bode well. “You’re a bit too prudish. I blame your parents.”

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Katie scowled as she crossed her arms. The words stung. Cormac had called her that before he had limped away from her that night. “And don't drag my parents into this.”

 

“Why not? Look at how strict they’ve raised you. The only outlandish things you’ve ever done is play Quidditch, your foul mouth, and kiss a few boys. Those last two, by the way, would cause your dad to shit himself if he ever found out. I bet you even brought that phial of Sober-Up Potion with you so they won’t notice that you’ve been drinking tonight. That’s hardly exciting. You’re of age, for Merlin’s sake. You need to let go, have fun! What’s the saying? Oh yes, sow your wild oats.”

 

“Like you, you mean?” Katie snorted at Angie’s words. Her friend’s idea of fun was hardly hers. The mere idea of bringing home another wizard after each game, sometimes even a Muggle when she felt adventurous, was something she wasn't comfortable with, at all.

 

“Well, yes! You don’t know what you’re missing. Tell her, Ally.”

 

"Yeah, she's right." A glassy-eyed Alicia nodded furiously. “You need a good shag.”

 

“Says the girl who has been attached at the hip to her boyfriend since forever. How’s George, by the way?”

 

“Yeah, yeah, he’s okay." Alicia frowned for a second before she shook it off and continued what she was saying. "The point is that I, like Angie the hussy over there-”

 

“Hey! I resent that!”

 

Alicia waved off Angie’s indignation and continued, “What was I saying? Oh yeah. I, like Angie the Harlot –is that better?- do shag regularly. It’s a good way to relieve some stress. You have a whole castle of boys at your disposal. Do what she did; try a few on for size.”

 

“I’m still here, you know,” Angie retorted tartly.

 

“You’re hard to miss, love. As I was saying…dammit. Oh yes. Try a few from the different houses, not shitting where you eat and all, dipping your quill in the House ink. Uhm, or whatever it is they're calling it these days. You need a good banging. I’m sure you’ll love it.”

 

Katie topped off her goblet again and drank it half-empty in one go before she replied. “You two are crazy, mental. I’m not gonna do that. Unlike you two, I have some self-respect.”

 

“What does that have to do with banging your brains out?” Angie retorted. “Our dear but utterly deranged friend is right. You know, I’m sure that if you’d have given McLaggen a chance, he could have changed your mind. I hear that he’s quite a talent.”

 

The urge to roll her eyes was overwhelming, but Katie managed to suppress it. Of course, she’d heard about Cormac’s many talents. Who hadn’t? Merlin, Parvati hadn’t shut up about it last year. Then Lavender, Cho, even that nearly invisible Sally-Ann had something to say. Then there was that Slytherin girl -what’s her name?- never-ending whispers about it during a Potions class. Come to think of it; McLaggen did get around. A lot.

 

“So, I’ve been told. But no thanks, I know where those hands have been.”

 

“Prude,” both her friends said in unison and burst out into laughter.

 

Maybe Katie should cut them off. Some water would do them well. Or, she should leave and end this verbal torture. Somehow, a night out with the girls always ended in lewd sex talk and her being confused about her principals.

 

“I’m not a prude. There is nothing wrong with actually liking a guy before letting him in your knickers. And I didn’t like Cormac in that way.”

 

“You’re just afraid of the unknown. I bet that once you start doing it, you’ll be unstoppable. You’d be a nymph.”

 

“A nymph? As in…?”

 

“An endless hunger for sex, shagging, fucking, screwing, bonking.” Alicia mused dreamily and yet again far, far too loud. Yes, it was definitively time to cut her off.

 

“Will you shut up? I get the picture,” Katie said annoyed. The men were watching them again. Dirty old bastards. “I’m in no hurry. Besides, shouldn't you love someone first before falling into bed with them?”

 

“Love, no. A bed isn't necessary neither. A wall will do just as well. Or, if the bloke is strong enough, he can hold you while he shags you senseless. That it more expert level, though. He could also just bend you over,” Alicia lectured her friend, dead serious.

 

“That’s it. No more wine for you.”

 

“Prude,” Alicia grumbled and signalled Tom to bring her another bottle.

 

“Am not!”

 

“Heavens, Katie! At eighteen you've only kissed two boys! You kicked the last one in the nutsack because he wanted to have a handful of tit.” Angelina sadly shook her head like a disappointed mother.

 

Katie cringed as she remembered the force behind her kick and the feel of her knee squashing something soft. She hoped for McLaggen's future wife’s sake it still functioned down there. “That doesn’t make me a prude.”

 

“In my,’ Angie nodded at Alicia, ‘our book, it does.”

 

“Prove it!” Alicia said suddenly, clapping her hands in excitement, “Prove to us that you’re not a priss!”

 

“Have you finally gone mad? Do we need to send you to St. Mungo’s? How am I supposed to prove that?”

 

The evening was getting more uncomfortable with the minute. These two bints weren’t going to let this go. Moreover, with the amount of wine that Katie already had, the chance that she was going to go with whatever her friends came up with was rather high. She always did in the end. That’s how she got her first kiss from Roger Davies and got caught peeping at a very naked Oliver Wood in the Prefects’ bathroom.

 

Angelina and Alicia seemed to have a silent conversation for a few minutes before they turned to Katie again. The night wasn’t going to end well; she just knew it. She ought to leave now while her dignity was still intact.

 

“How about a dare?” Alicia slurred, “A very simple one. Even you shouldn’t have a problem with it.”

 

“What kind of dare?” Katie asked suspiciously. Yes, she should definitively leave, and yet, she stayed. What was wrong with her?

 

“What about…” Angie tapped her chin. “Oh, I got it. How about you snogging the first bloke that comes through the door? You can chat him up first if you want. But there has to be spit swapping and some groping at the end of the night. I’m talking about a handful and in full sight. No offence, but we can’t take your word for it.”

 

Katie looked around in disgust. Most of the men around were old enough to be her father or even her granddad. How likely was it that someone more close to her age would walk in? But most importantly, why was she even considering this?

 

“How does that prove anything?”

 

Angie, who apparently couldn't think of a proper reply, just shrugged and gulped down the rest of her wine. Alicia looked at her through half open eyes as if she saw Katie for the first time. It took her while to realise that she had to answer. “It does. Are you in or out?”

 

“What if I’m out?”

 

“Prude,” both girls repeated.

 

“Fucking slags,” Katie muttered. They knew that she'd never say no to a dare. It had always been a matter of misplaced sense of pride for her, and the girls always knew how to exploit that. When she uttered the next words that would change everything, Katie knew that she was as crazy as her friends were. Even more so.

 

“Fine, I’m in.”

 

_‘Please, let it be decent bloke.’_


	2. The next morning

The twittering of birds woke Katie up from one of the most erotic dreams she had ever had. Bleary-eyed and muttering about sodding hell birds ruining her dreams, she briefly blinked around the room. It was still dark enough with just enough sunlight shining from underneath the curtains to prove it was morning. Well, day, at least, which was all she needed to know.

 

Refusing to open her eyes again, she desperately tried to relive the dream about a dark-haired prince who had saved her from the clutches of two hags. As a reward, she’d given him permission to do whatever he wanted to do to her body. And Gods, how he had.

 

After a few minutes, she gave up. The dream slipped away as the reality of early morning after a night of heavy drinking set in. Her head was pounding as her brain tried to crawl out through to her eye sockets, and she was sure that she was oozing wine from her pores. Her mouth felt like she had given the girls’ locker room a mopping with her tongue. In short; she'd forgotten to take her Sober-Up Potion.

 

But that wasn't what felt off.

 

Looking around again, Katie tried to focus enough to figure out where she was. The room didn’t look familiar, so she wasn’t at home. Nor did it resemble one of the girls' flats. Did she rent a room at the Leaky then perhaps?

 

Groaning, Katie realised that her parents were going to kill her. She never stayed out the whole night when she was home from school. Not unless she had asked it two weeks in advance, in duplicate writing.

 

_‘They’ll probably ground me for life.’_

 

A deep snore from her left side startled her. That, and the large and muscular arm draping itself around her waist and pulling her closer. Fine dark hairs dusted the tanned skin on the forearm. No, clearly not one of the girls; Alicia had that particular problem fixed last year. This was a man’s arm. For a minute, Katie wondered whether she was still sleeping or not and this was the continuation of her thigh-clenching dream. Another deep snore shattered that hope; Prince Charming wasn’t supposed to make those kinds of noises. Certainly not in dreams.

 

So, what did it mean?

 

Katie momentarily forgot about her parents’ possible reaction to her staying out all night. Her heart started beating erratically in her chest as she last night’s events flashed before her eyes. She remembered the ridiculous conversation with the girls, the too much wine they'd drunk, and the dare.

 

Oh Merlin, the dare! She’d accepted the dare to snog the first bloke who walked into the Leaky. Clearly, she had, but more than that, he was lying next to her. Katie was about to cry. A kiss, a quick grope, and then flee home in embarrassment. That had been her plan. Not this: a hairy arm draped around her waist.

 

_‘Fucking cunts, why didn’t they stop me?’_

 

Mustering up some courage, Katie slightly turned her head with closed eyes. There was bound to be a face that went with the arm, right? She needed to know whom she ended up in bed with so that she could avoid him in the future in case she ever got out of Azkaban for killing her so-called friends.

 

Slowly, Katie opened her eyes, all the while praying to whoever took the time to listen, that this was just a figment of her hormone-drenched imagination. Unfortunately for her, it wasn’t. In fact, what she saw only made her feel more horrible that she already felt. Because there, sleeping serenely with his mouth slightly agape, lay Marcus Flint. The troll Flint who had been a few years above her at Hogwarts. Flint, the current captain of the Tornadoes and recently named Quidditch player of the year.

 

“Oh, fuck!”

 

“Later. Sleep first,” he grumbled sleepily and pulled her closer. His naked body flushed against hers as he nuzzled the crook of her neck.

 

Naked. Body. Why were they naked?

 

Katie stared at him wide eyed. Marcus sodding Flint. How much did she drink last night to let this happen? It took her a few minutes to gain her senses again and wriggle free. It was time to go home, cleanse herself and thoroughly, and pretend this had never happened. And somewhere in between it the long shower and forgetting, her friends needed a good hexing as well. But first, she needed to get away from here, wherever ‘here’ was. Breaking free from Flint’s firm hold proved harder than she’d expected. The man was strong, even in his sleep.

 

“Flint? Let me go,” Katie whispered. There was no need to wake the sleeping giant.

 

“Sleep,” he mumbled again and snuggled closer.

 

Something poked her thigh, and she tried hard not to think about what it could be. There were more pressing matters at hand. For instance, how was she going to free herself from Flint's grasp? After lying still for a few more minutes, she tried again.

 

“Flint? I need to use the loo. If you don’t let me go now, I’m gonna wet the bed.”

 

He mumbled something unintelligible and finally let her go. As fast as she could, Katie jumped out bed, starkers and her body sore. She didn’t want to think too much of what could have caused that soreness. Getting dressed was the next priority now. Her clothes lay scattered all over the room. The first thing she picked up were her knickers, torn apart. Her bra hung from the candelabra. With her cheeks flushed a bright red, she gathered the rest of her clothes and wand and ran through the first door she managed to open.

 

Luckily for her, it was the door to the bathroom, which was far too luxurious to be at the Leaky Cauldron. As far as she knew, they didn’t have marble countertops or golden fixtures. Gingerly, she sat at on the toilet. If the nakedness and soreness hadn't been enough evidence, the stinging when she peed and the bit of blood when she cleaned herself sure was. She had done ‘it’ with Flint.

 

_‘Sex, Katie, it’s called sex.’_

“Shit, shit, shit,” she muttered to herself as she cradled her head in her hands. The urge to cry was overwhelming. How could this have happened? Snog a bloke and feel him up; that was all she had to do. Not end up in bed with him. That was something Angie did, not her.

 

She remembered telling Angie that there was no way in the seven rings of hell that she was going to snog Flint, losing that discussion -after she’d explained what it meant- and walking up to him for a chat, which had surprisingly enough turned into genuine flirting. Again, there had been a lot of booze involved. And then the kissing. Oh dear Morgana, the kissing!

 

More clearly now, she remembered trying to climb Flint like he was some jungle gym to get some friction while his fingers had dug into the soft flesh of her bum. And most definitively, she remembered eagerly nodding when he'd suggested to go somewhere more private to continue.

 

Again, why hadn’t her friends stopped her? Instead, they had catcalled and cheered her on. They were older (just by a year) and wiser (they barely managed three N.E.W.T.’s between them) and should have known better. Katie vowed to make buttons of their bones as soon as she got her hands on those twats.

 

Quickly as possible, she got dressed and tucked the torn knickers into one of her pockets. She needed to get out before Flint woke up, and things turned awkward. Facing him was not high on her priority list right now. He probably wanted her gone as well. She’d been just an all too willing casual shag, after all. He must get that a lot, being a professional Quidditch player and all. Then again, as Angie was her only reference point in that particular area, Katie could be wrong. She wasn’t sure.

 

Dammit, she’d become one of those groupie kinds of girls. He must think that she’d done it for her fifteen minutes of fame. That only added more to the embarrassment and humiliation she was already feeling. Without thinking twice, Katie pulled out her wand and Apparated, all the way thinking how she was going to explain not coming home last night to her parents and hoping that her face wouldn’t be plastered all over the Prophet as Flint’s latest conquest.

 

On the other side of the door, Marcus sat upright in his bed with disappointment written all over his face. He had a great time last night and had hoped for another go this morning. He had even planned to take her back to her parents and properly introduce himself to them. It was the gentlemanly thing to do after all. His mother had raised him well enough to know how to treat a good girl. And little Bell had clearly been one before he got his hands on her.

 

But, as soon as he had noticed her frantically searching the room for her clothes, he had known that a second romp was not going to happen. Most chits needed to be escorted out in the mornings, sometimes with force, because they always overstayed their welcome. It was funny how the one he wanted to stay, was eager to get away. Instead of confronting her, he’d relaxed the wards to allow her to leave if she wanted to.

 

When he heard the loud crack of her Apparition, he dropped back with a sigh.

 

“Coward.”

 

Not one to give up that easily, though, he spent the rest of the day to come up with a plan to meet her again. Little Bell had grown up quite a bit since he’d last seen her and he liked what he saw. She was pretty good shag for such an innocent, and he would be damned if he let that slip through his fingers.

 

“Ready or not Princess, you’re mine now.”


	3. Back at Hogwarts

It was a cold and dreary January evening and the gloomy weather was the perfect mirror of Katie's mood. Instead of staying inside, warm and dry, she had opted for a stroll around to brood in solitude. Thankfully, she was alone since walking around in the cold dark wasn't a favourite pastime for most students.

 

For the past hour, she’d been walking up and down the wet banks, now and then stopping to stare at the ripples that ran over the water each time the Giant Squid reared its ugly head. It was strangely soothing and helped to clear her mind.

 

And Merlin knows, Katie needed a clear mind. All she could think about was the night she'd spent with Flint. It was on her mind every waking minute. The things they’d done regularly invaded her dreams at the most inappropriate times. Waking up in the morning all hot and bothered wasn't something she familiar with, and it was interfering with her life.

 

In the few days since school had started again, she had managed to fall off her broom, receive detention with Snape, and forgot to write an essay for her Transfiguration class. McGonagall had even sent her to Madam Pomfrey, thinking Katie was sick because of her flushed cheeks, higher temperature, and glassy eyes. The truth was that she had been daydreaming, quite explicitly, about Flint.

 

It had to stop.

 

And on top of that, her parents had grounded her for life until further notice and had threatened to revoke the permission they had given for her to attend the try-outs during Easter holiday. That she was of age and didn’t have to live with or listen to them, theoretically speaking, hadn’t deterred them at all.

 

When she got home that Saturday morning, almost noon, her furious father, sobbing mother, and someone from the MLE taking statements from them had welcomed her. That had been awkward, to say the least. The awkwardness had reached new heights when she’d rushed to her mother’s side to console her, and the torn knickers fell out her pocket.

 

Of course, Katie had tried to placate them, made up weak excuses about falling asleep on Angie’s sofa, conveniently ignoring the piece of scrap by her feet. However, the love bite on her collarbone, the torn knickers, and the fact that Angie’s flat had been the first place her parents had checked, hadn’t helped her cause. The scolding she got from them and the stern talking to by the Auror had rivalled Molly Weasley’s howlers. But the worst of all, her parents had refused to see her off to Hogwarts the next day. That had hurt, still did. Katie hated disappointing her parents, and they were clearly that.

 

“Damn those hags and their stupid dares,” she muttered, kicking a pebble.

 

She wasn't about to acknowledge her share in the happenings of that night and was quite comfortable with blaming her friends. If her parents had allowed her to leave the house or receive visitors, she would have happily throttled the girls. Those crows were in a world of hurt once she got her hands on them. The cowards hadn’t even shown their faces at King’s Cross to wave her off despite their promises that they would. 

 

And then there was Flint. How on earth did that happen? He was the thick, troll-like, irritating arse that used to make playing Quidditch against Slytherin a hell. What in Merlin's name had she been thinking when she allowed him to take her to…wherever it was he’d taken her. Then he had taken her, to the point that she’d been sore for a few days. Thinking about what they’d done that night still had her clenching her thighs. Since when did Flint have that kind of effect on her?

 

In his defence, he had been funny and quite easy to talk to. However, that also could have been her inebriated mind playing tricks on her. But still, he did have the kind of eyes that a girl could lose herself in –if you took the time to look at his face for long enough- and his touches and been surprisingly gentle. The thick troll she’d always thought him to be was, in fact, a moderately intelligent and charming man. With a body, oh that body, she wanted to curl up against after he’d made her toes curl again.

 

“Dammit. Just forget about it, stupid cow,” Katie scolded herself and kicked another pebble. Apparently, clearing her mind was not in the stars for her tonight. “Try harder, try harder.”

 

“Do you always talk to yourself?”

 

The voice made Katie jump up, yelping in fright. Clutching her chest, she turned around.

 

“What the fuck! Do you always sneak up on people like that?” Katie vaguely recognised the girl standing before her. The fat girl from Slytherin, a year below her, the one who used to do the headlock thing.

_‘What’s her name?’_

 

“I called out. It’s not my fault that you were daydreaming,” the girl replied in a bored tone as she shrugged.

 

“Do you need something?” Why was the chit talking to her? Didn’t she see that she wanted to be left alone?

 

“No. But, that idiot cousin of mine insisted that I give you this.” The girl plucked something from her robe pocket. It was a crumpled and stained envelope.

 

“You are Katie Bell, aren’t you?” The girl looked relieved when Katie nodded in reply and passed on the letter. “Sorry about how it looks. I’ve had it in my pocket for the last few days. I only learnt today it was you I had to give it to. Really couldn’t recall your face.”

 

Katie turned the envelope around a few times, trying to decipher from whom it could be without opening it. The girl was a Slytherin, after all. You couldn’t be too safe with that lot. The handwriting on the letter was unfamiliar, and there seemed to be something solid in it.

 

“Who’s your cousin?”

 

“Marcus,” the girl replied with a frown.

 

“Marcus who?” Katie was sure her voice had risen a few octaves.

 

_‘Stupid butterflies. Ease down, will you!’_

 

“Marcus as in Flint.”

 

The rush of excitement that went through her at hearing his name and the knowledge that he’d taken the time to write her was almost embarrassing. Katie just hoped that the girl didn’t notice her flushed cheeks in the dark.

 

_‘Get yourself together.’_

 

She cleared her throat a few times as she stared at the envelope, only looked up when the other girl did the same. “Thank you, uhm... I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.”

 

“Millicent,” the girl offered and waited for Katie to introduce herself as well. When that didn’t happen, she turned around with a huff and walked away with her friend who had been standing a few feet away from them.

 

Katie didn’t notice, though, she was too transfixed on the letter in her hand. It was time to go to her dorm and see what Flint had written her.


	4. The Portkey

“I must be mad,” Katie muttered to herself as she crept down the narrow tunnel that would lead her out of Hogwarts into the free world. There were many secret passages the twins had told her about, but this one was the only one that she had been able to get to without being caught by Filch and his flea ball, Mrs Norris.

 

The tunnel was dirty and damp, and she tried hard not to think about the little critters that she heard around her or the cobwebs that seemed to accumulate around her head.

 

_‘This better be worth it.’_

 

Flint’s letter had been burning in her pocket for days while she had weighed the pros and cons against of doing as the message in it had suggested. For all she knew, it was a joke on her from her fellow schoolmates. Eventually, her curiosity had won, and she had given into temptation. The note itself was short. ‘Use it’ it said, referring to the small pendant in the envelope. The snitch shaped charm was clearly a Portkey designed to take her to him. No words of affection, he hadn’t even signed his name.

 

_‘So far for romance.’_

 

At first, the bossy words and his confidence that she would do as he told her to do had outraged her. But, as the days passed, she found herself more and more curious to know why Flint wanted to see her again. Logically, she knew it would be for the best for her sanity to forget that night, pretend that it had never happened. At the same time, that night had awoken something she couldn't quite put her finger on, and she wanted to explore those feelings. Not with the boys at Hogwarts, though, that would be wrong for far too many reasons.

 

That’s why she was here on a Friday night, sneaking out for the first time in her seven years at here. Doing something forbidden, which was strangely exciting, was new to her. Katie had always lived by the rules her parents had instilled. If they could see her now, they'd surely have a heart attack and think that she was possessed or under the Imperius Curse for doing something like this.

 

_‘Possessed by the possibility of sex.’_ Katie snort-laughed at her pervy thoughts.

 

The night sky was clear and the full moon lightened up the surroundings as she crept out the tunnel, happy to inhale fresh air once again. The secret passage had led her just outside the gates, near the main entrance. Katie quickly Scourgified herself and hoped that she didn’t look too much like something the Kneazle had dragged in. As soon as she was confident enough that her appearance was acceptable, she grabbed the Portkey and was gone in an instant.

 

As far as she could recall, the room she landed in was the same as the one she woke up in two weeks prior. The cream coloured pile carpet was so soft that her feet disappeared in it when she swirled around to have a better look. The large four-poster bed against the far wall looked as comfortable as she remembered it being. Ruby-coloured curtains obscured the windows, keeping out the storm she heard raging outside. A happily crackling fire in the hearth warmed the room. She quickly darted over the fireplace to warm her hands.

 

He wasn’t here to her utter disappointment and at the same time, she was relieved about that. It gave her some more time to collect her thoughts since sneaking out unseen had been her primary goal. For a fleeting minute, she wondered if should have owled Flint to let him know that she'd be coming tonight. What if he had other plans or was travelling? Weren’t there the European League matches this time of year?

 

“Fucking smart,” Katie scolded herself as she moved to the bed and flopped backwards and took her time to figure out what she was supposed to do next.

 

It was a tie between waiting for him to come home and returning to Hogwarts. Walking out the room to see where the Portkey had taken her crossed her mind, but she soon discarded that idea. She had no inkling to where she was, and Merlin only knew what lived on the other side of those doors. What if there were crazy creatures out there? This was still Flint, after all.

 

The bed was comfortable, in fact, the whole room exuded comfort. It was a far better place to spend some time in than the noisy and crowded common room. Not to mention, it gave her a chance to avoid McLaggen, who kept throwing her suspicious glances since a few days and frankly, he was making her nervous.

 

“Just for a little while,” she mumbled as she kicked off her shoes and crept under the covers. Half an hour, that was how long she planned to wait for Flint and not a minute longer. It wasn’t long before her eyes drooped and she was off to the land of Nod.

 

*****KM*****

 

It was nearing midnight when Marcus finally made it back to Flint Manor. He was having an utterly shitty day. Training had been brutal; his teammates had taken turns in kicking him off his broom more times than he cared to think about, leaving him sore all over. Although training had run late because of his lack of concentration, his teammates had still asked him to go for drinks. And as the new captain needing to win them over, he hadn’t been able to refuse without looking like an utter tosser. A few turned out to be a lot and here he was, regretting that he'd given in. Unfortunately, the usual buzzy feel that accompanied that many drinks, never came. Only a skull-splitting headache.

 

Usually, the manor was deadly quiet when he got home. Ever since his parents had decided to retire to Spain, the only companions he had were the house elves and the odd visit from his friends. Or the chits who offered themselves for a night of fun. It was strange really; before he started playing for the Tornadoes, witches had rarely looked twice in his direction. But now, they flocked around him, hoping to get their hands on a famous Quidditch star and the future successor to Flint Industries.

 

Marcus didn’t mind and quite eagerly accepted what those witches had to offer to make up for lost time. Although lately, he hadn’t brought any of them home. His mind was still on Bell as he counted down the days until the next Hogsmeade weekend his cousin Millie had told him about so he could see her again. He sure hoped that little Bell would use the Portkey because he had plans for her.

 

As soon as Marcus stepped out the fireplace and before he had the chance to dust off the soot from his clothes, he was confronted with a sobbing, dark-haired witch in his favourite leather chair.

 

_‘If I’ve told her once, I’ve told her a thousand times.’_

 

“Sophia?” he called out cautiously.

 

The witch snapped up her head. Her big brown eyes were red-rimmed, and her cheeks stained with tears. “Oh, Marcus,” she wailed and flung herself at him, crying even harder in his chest.

 

“There, there,” Marcus said as he awkwardly patted her back. He could feel her tears soak through his robes.

 

_‘Oh Gods, not snot. Please not snot.’_

 

“Oh, Marcus,” Sophia wailed again, making him curse the day he had allowed around the clock Floo access to his friends and their witches. Sobbing chits hadn't been a part of the deal, though.

 

“What's he done now?” Marcus said with a sigh as he tried to pry the woman off him.

 

“He…he…he forgot our anniversary,” was the wailing answer and a fresh batch of tears followed soon after.

 

“What anniversary?”

 

 “Our four-month wedding anniversary.” She looked up at him as if he was stupid for making her say it aloud. “When I reminded him about it, he said that I was crazy.”

 

_‘Because you probably are, you barmy bint.’_

 

In the four months since Higgs had got himself shackled to the nutter formerly known as Sophia Montague, she had been at the manor at least half a dozen times, crying over something insignificant. Just like now. Her parents had already forbidden her to bother them unless it was a life or death situation. And since Sophia didn’t have any friends of her own and had never learnt to get along with the other girlfriends and wives, Marcus had been her only refuge in troubling times.

 

He made a mental note to alter the wards and limit the Floo access as soon as the crazy bat left in the morning. “Come on, let’s get you settled in and I’ll let Terence know that you’re here.”

 

_‘Again, you mental hag.’_

 

Marcus led the sobbing woman to the only bedroom that was in proper use at the Manor: his. He’d made the mistake of offering her one of the guestrooms the first time she'd come over in hysterics. The tantrum that had followed -how dare he lock her up in a dusty broom closet- had nearly deafened him. Ever since that night, he had always sacrificed his room whenever she fought with Higgs and hid in the farthest corners of the Manor.

 

As soon as they reached his room, he practically shoved Sophia through the door. For a minute, he contemplated on locking her in to prevent her from wandering his house in the middle of the night. It wouldn’t be the first time she had done something like that.

 

“Here you go. I’ll send Crumpet with the necessities.”

 

 “You’re too sweet, Marcus.” To his utter horror, Sophia planted a quick peck on his cheek.

 

_‘Definitely altering the wards.’_

 

Cursing under his breath, Marcus got away from her as quickly as he could. He was halfway down the hall when the first shrieks reached his ears, making him cringe. It sounded too a much like nails on a chalkboard.

 

“Oh sweet Salazar, what now, you mad cow,” he growled.

 

The shrieks intensified in the span of the few second it took him to reach the bedroom again. As he came closer, he was able to distinguish a second, pleading voice. Someone was trying to calm Sophia down by the sounds of it. Did Crumpet scare the banshee?

 

When he opened the door, the sight in front of him was not what he had expected. Sophia had her wand drawn and was pointing it at the bed, cursing at the top of her lungs. On, or rather in his bed sat Bell, clutching to the covers as a shield. Her eyes were wide as saucers as she tried to convince the screaming witch to put down her wand. As soon as Sophia noticed Marcus, she turned to him, giving Bell the chance to roll out the bed and grab her wand.

 

“How dare you, Marcus Flint! Why would you think that I'd share a room with this hussy? Don't ever confront me with your tarts again. Get her out!” Sophia kept on screaming, stabbing the tip of her wand into his chest.

 

Marcus paid her no heed, though. His attention was on the pleasant surprise by the name of Katie Bell. In his bed for some reason. She had come, much sooner than he had expected her to. But, instead of a very, very pleasurable night, this was turning out to be a nightmare. With each word Sophia uttered, he could see Bell’s face fall further. Before he got the chance to say something to her, her hand reached into her pocket, and she disappeared in the blink of an eye.

 

_‘One-way portkey the next time it is then.’_

 

“Really, Marcus. When are you going to stop with these girls?” Sophia whined.

 

Before she could say more, Marcus grabbed her arm and dragged her to the fireplace. Keeping Sophia from struggling free with one arm, he used his free hand to throw a pinch of Floo powder into the heart while he called out for Terence Higgs. He had enough.

 

“What are you doing? I don’t want to speak to him yet.”

 

“For fuck’s sake, woman. Shut up for once.”

 

Terence’s sleepy head appeared in the fireplace, angering Marcus even more than he already was. The bastard was having a bloody beauty sleep while his mental wife was well on her way into ruining his life.

 

“Do you know what time it is?” Higgs said yawning.

 

“Yes, time for your wife to come home. Step aside, I’m pushing her through.”

 

Both Terence and Sophia began protesting, neither eager to see the other so soon. Terence begged and even offered money to convince Marcus to keep his wife for the night. Not that it worked. As promised, Marcus shoved Sophia into the green flames. As soon as the green flames swallowed her whole, he closed down the hearth and called for his elf, Crumpet, and ordered him to take all the fireplaces off the Floo-network.

 

“Oh, and get Pucey here. I need another Portkey.”

 

Tired, Marcus slumped down in a chair. He needed a new plan to lure little Bell his way. If he had assessed her correctly, she’d probably toss out the new Portkey he planned on sending her. He needed a backup plan. Because the next time, and he was sure that there would be, Katie wasn’t getting away from him. **  
**


	5. The Library

Dinnertime was the perfect time to hide out in the library and do your homework without the distraction from others. Blissfully alone, Katie tried to concentrate on her Potion’s essay, she really did. Since she was already on Snape’s bad side -yes, it could always get worse- she really couldn’t afford to bollocks this up. The greasy bat would surely kick her out his N.E.W.T. class if she turned in another monstrosity that was supposed to resemble an essay. Then her parents would be informed, and before you knew it, the Quidditch try-outs in April were out the question. No, she needed to get this right in one go.

 

After a disastrous couple of weeks, it was time for her life to go back to normal, Katie decided. The detentions she had received for not paying attention, being late for her classes, unnecessarily losing House points, and forgetting to do her homework had already earned her a firm talking to by McGonagall. Her Head of House had threatened to take her off the Gryffindor team if she kept on cocking up. She couldn’t let that happen; Quidditch was just too important to her.

 

Unfortunately, concentrating proved to be difficult. Not in the first place because of the sniffling and the hushed talking behind the bookshelves, which was immensely annoying. Why anyone would choose the library to cry was beyond her. You had your dorm to do those kinds of things. The urge to yell at whoever was sobbing was overwhelming, but Katie couldn’t afford Madam Pince kicking her out.

 

But what was more distracting than the sniffles behind the bookshelves was a young man by the name of Marcus Flint. She couldn’t get him off her mind; it would make her life so much easier if she could. Ever since fleeing his house a week earlier he had owled her every day. The bastard had even sent her a new Portkey with one of his letters. In contrast to the very first note he had sent, the new ones held more than two words, each single one urging her to meet him during the next Hogsmeade weekend. He hadn’t mentioned anything about who the woman was, though, or apologised for what had happened.

 

Katie had burnt the first few letters at the breakfast table, loudly cursing his audacity and arrogance much to her schoolmates' amusement. Apparently, there were rules against starting fires on school grounds, and it had earned her a detention with Filch. Having learnt her lesson, she now quickly skimmed through the letters and tore them up into a million pieces with the intention to send it back to Flint. It wasn't as satisfactory as burning them while imagining it was Flint at the stake, but it had to do for now.

 

Katie hadn’t used the Portkey, of course. The prospect of running into one of his girlfriends and being yelled at again was not appealing one. However, the main reason for not using it was that she honestly didn’t want to see him again. The last time had been humiliating enough and a cruel reminder that their fling should stay just that. Any romantic ideas she might have had leading up to her visit had evaporated by the time she had sneaked back into her dormitory that night. It was best to forget that she had ever crossed paths with Marcus Flint, the no good excuse for a wizard.

 

“It was clearly a one-night thing, you bint. What did you expect?” she muttered angrily and willed herself to concentrate on her homework.

 

Just when she thought that she understood what she was reading, the sniffling started again. Looking over her shoulder, Katie noticed Madam Pince was absent from her desk. This was her chance.

 

“Can you just shut up? Some of us have work to do here!” she yelled and threw a wad in the direction of the sound. The piece of paper made a pathetic arc over the table and bounced on the floor, nowhere near the blubbering sounds.

 

Thankfully, though, the whimpering and crying stopped.

 

_‘Concentrate. Potions.’_

 

“Katie?”

 

Groaning in annoyance by yet another disruption, she looked up from her parchment, ready to tell off whoever dared to disturb her. To her surprise, it was Cormac, baring his pearly white teeth in a blindingly wide grin. She hadn’t talked to him since that unfortunate kicking debacle and preferred to avoid him as much as possible. Deep down, she did feel a tiny bit guilty. That melted like snow under the sun when he sat down before she had a chance to speak or invite him to do so.

 

“What d’you want?” she bit out.

 

_‘I bet it’s a slow and painful death.’_

 

Cormac flipped his blond hair back, and his smile broadened as he leant on his elbows. Katie wasn’t sure what made her more uncomfortable: his staring at her chest or the fact he thought that imitating Gilderoy Lockhart with the hair whip would be such a good idea.

 

“How’ve you been? It’s been a while since we talked,” he said sweetly when he finally remembered to look up a bit higher. Her obvious discomfort at his gaze lost on him.

 

Katie pulled her robes closer and tried hard to resist the urge to gauge his eyes out. She wanted to tell him that they never had real conversations because she had been too busy with avoiding him. Instead, she vaguely waved her hand over the table.

 

“Busy, busy, busy,” was her answer as she picked up her quill.

 

_‘Now go and bother someone else.’_

 

“Yeah, that’s nice.” His eyes wandered lower again. “Listen, you know it's a Hogsmeade weekend next week, yeah? I thought it'd be fun if you’d go with me.”

 

“What? Why?” It came out a bit harsher than she had intended to. Nevertheless, after their disastrous ending, this was the last thing Katie had expected him to say.

 

_‘Maybe, he likes being kicked. Angie told me once about those kinds of people. I never pegged him to be one.’_

 

Cormac’s smile faltered for a second. “Well, yes, I thought I’d give you another chance. You know, after the last time.”

 

“You, giving me another chance? At what precisely?” Katie asked in outrage, ready to jump at his throat.

 

‘ _This must be a joke. Even he can’t be that delusional.’_

 

Unfortunately, Cormac interpreted her disbelief as a hesitant relief. “I’m giving you a chance at dating me again, of course. I know you didn’t mean to do, uhm, that thing you did.” He shifted in his chair and looked a bit uncomfortable. “I know you like me, all girls do. So, what do you say? You can make up for hurting me over a Butterbeer.”

 

The wink he added at the end made Katie throw up in her mouth a little.

 

_‘Sodding idiot! Who does he think he is?’_

 

“Look, Cormac-”

 

He held up his hand, interrupting her. “I know, darling, and I accept your apology. So, what do you say about Hogsmeade?”

 

Katie had her wand already in her hand under the table and was about to hit him with a Bat-Bogey hex when she changed her mind. Angie’s and Ally’s cackles and teases about her lacking experience came to mind. Well, she’d done _it_ with Flint, but that was no way near to what they would deem sufficient experience.

 

_‘Sex, Katie. It’s called sex.’_

 

Cormac was supposed to be a connoisseur in that area, wasn’t he? Seeing how Flint was out of the question these days, maybe she ought to try McLaggen on for size, to repeat Alicia’s words, and broaden her horizon. Perhaps, he'd be able to satisfy her curiosity and end these disturbing thoughts she’d been having about Flint lately.

 

_‘I can do this, everyone else is. How hard can it be? But what about Flint?’_

 

“Fucking, Flint. Get out my head,” Katie muttered, annoyed with herself.

 

“Sorry, what was that?”

 

“Nothing, nothing,” she rushed to answer and took a deep breath. This was it; she was about to set the first step in gaining more experience and becoming a woman of the world. “I’d love to go to Hogsmeade with you.”

 

By the look on Cormac's face, the smile she'd managed to conjure looked more like a grimace.

 

“I knew you would say yes!” he exclaimed and tried to pull her in for a quick kiss to seal the deal.

 

She barely managed to evade his arms by pushing her chair back. It made him smile; she was back at playing hard to get. This time, though, he was prepared to play along with her. “Let me know what colours you're going to wear, so we don’t clash.”

 

_‘Did he just…?’_

 

“Yeah, sure, I will. It'd be horrible if that were to happen.” Katie nodded and bit her lips, afraid of saying something that might upset him and ruin her chances in getting more skilled in other areas than Quidditch.

 

Cormac left her quickly after that, but not before planting a quick peck on her lips. She had been busy with trying to figure out if he had meant that colour-coordinating thing that she hadn’t seen him coming. The minute his lips touched hers ( _‘Tuna and onions, sickening’_ ), Katie realised that she had made a mistake of epic proportions. He still had the ability to make her skin crawl, and there was no way that he was getting that close again.

 

“Try him on for size. What is he, a glove? Now I have to come up with a plan to escape him,” Katie shook her head, amazed by her stupidity. Deciding that it would be best to figure out on how to cancel the date later in the evening, she tried to concentrate on her homework again.

 

Just as she began to grasp what Snape wanted the essay to be about, a shadow darkened her parchment again.

 

_‘Fucking McLaggen, can’t leave me alone for a minute.’_

 

Only, it wasn’t McLaggen this time. It was that Slytherin girl, Mildred. Or, was it Mathilda? The girl looked quite angry, her arms crossed and tapping her foot. On top of that, she looked like she had been crying as well; red-rimmed eyes, red nose and dried up tear tracks on her round cheeks. A pug-nosed girl stood a few steps behind her.

 

_‘Found the crier.’_

 

“Yes?” Katie sighed; she really needed to concentrate on her homework. Perhaps, she should have stayed in her dorm tonight.

 

“Are you going to Hogsmeade with that tosser?” Margaret asked as she waggled her finger.

 

Katie leant back in her chair as she rubbed her face in frustration. “What’s it to you?”

 

Mildred frowned and took a step closer, clearly trying to –and admittedly succeeding in- intimidate her. “What about Marcus?”

 

“What about him?” Katie asked in a small voice.

 

_‘Please don’t strangle me.’_

 

“You’re his girl. You can’t go out with other blokes!” Mathilda exclaimed, “That’s not proper. And I’m pretty sure that twat is disease ridden.”

 

The pug-nosed girl -was it Violet?– nodded in agreement. Katie couldn’t help the smile that crept up her face; she had found two other souls who weren’t the slightest bit impressed by Cormac. They probably had a point with the diseased rag thing as well. Still, Miranda had no right to interfere.

 

“What do you mean ‘his girl’? I am not his or anyone else’s girl.”

 

“Yes, you are. Marcus said so. He almost never lies.” Mary’s reply came out a bit unsure, and she looked over her shoulder at her friend in support. Rosie just shrugged her shoulders in silent answer.

 

“Molly, listen-”

 

“Millicent.”

 

“Yes, of course, I knew that. Millicent, listen, I’m not sure what Flint has told you, but the last time I’ve checked, I was far from being his girl. He probably has a different one every weekend. You really shouldn’t get attached this quickly.”

 

Saying it aloud didn’t make her feel any better. If anything, she felt disappointed and an unreasonable jealousy at the mere thought of Flint’s imaginative conquests.

 

_‘What’s wrong with me?’_

 

“But, but…” Millicent stammered, “I’m sure he wrote in his last letter that you're his girl.” She looked back at her friend again, who nodded.

 

“No, I am not and I’ll go out with whoever I want. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have homework to finish.” Katie tried hard to pretend that she was engrossed in her Potions book while she ignored the huffing Slytherins. It wasn’t until she heard retreating footsteps she looked up again.

 

“His girl! Who does that prick think he is?” she muttered angrily, “I ought to hex him the next time I see him.”

 

Still, when she lay in her bed later that night with the curtains drawn, Katie couldn’t help let out a giddy laugh. ‘I’m his girl’ was all she could think about, even after her eyes had fallen shut.

 

*****KM*****

 

Far, far away -well, not that far since you could see Hogwarts’ Astronomy Tower from the east wing if you knew how to look- Marcus sat slumped in his favourite leather chair. In his one hand, he held an overflowing glass of Firewhisky and in the other, the shredded remnants of a letter.

 

His thoughtful cousin Millicent had updated him on the goings-on at Hogwarts, just as he had asked her to. She had been very clear about the most recent developments, and it didn't sit well with him. He never thought about other possible suitors for his Bell’s attention and certainly not handsome cads -as Millie had put it- who wanted to rekindle old flames. If the bloke was persistent enough, it could cause some serious damage to Marcus’ plans.

 

There was one thing left to do to limit the damage; eliminate the threat.


	6. Hogsmeade weekend, part 1

The morning of the Hogsmeade weekend came much too soon for Katie’s liking. For the past week, she’d been coming up with excuses to get out of her promise to Cormac. Unfortunately, nothing had worked; he had rebutted all of her excuses and had come up with a few solutions for her imaginary problems. He had even offered her a Soothing Potion when she complained about cramps. And here she was now, ready to scream out in frustration.

 

He had been waiting for her in the common room, half-heartedly scolding her for being late. Later at breakfast, she'd learnt from Ginny Weasley that he had tried to climb the stairs to get her. To make matters worse, they both had ended up wearing a red jumper and jeans. Of course, his clothes were prettier. She had wanted to change, but Cormac had found it hilarious and said it was a lucky omen for their budding relationship. Katie had been embarrassed beyond words; even her Housemates’ faces had shown embarrassment on her behalf.

 

Then, the idiot had sat next to her during breakfast, ‘accidently’ touching her thigh or brushing the side of her chest the whole time. On top of that, Millicent over at the Slytherin table kept watching their every move, adding anxiety to her frustration. Of course, that also had to be the moment Flint’s owl dropped one of his unwanted letters on her plate.

 

Cormac had snatched it from her plate while demanding that she’d spend her attention on him, which had earned him a well-deserved peck from Flint’s owl, making his well-manicured finger bleed profusely. That had given her enough distraction to take the letter back and tuck it in her pocket. In the process, she had ‘accidently’ kicked him in the shins. Katie wasn’t a violent person, but something about Cormac brought out the worst in her.

 

And, here they were, wandering out and about as she counted down the seconds until she could end this charade. Being near him was becoming increasingly unbearable with each passing second, more so than usual. He had been complaining non-stop about deranged owls, his frustration about being a Quidditch reserve, and everything and anyone else in between that rubbed him the wrong way. Katie expected that after today, she'd probably be on that list because she doubted that he would make it through the day unscathed. She was bound to hex him eventually. Why oh why had she agreed to this?

 

_‘You were thinking about shagging, you slag.’_

 

As expected, the little village was packed with students enjoying their day away from school grounds. With barely contained jealousy, Katie watched her schoolmates have fun while she was ready to jump off the nearest bridge.

 

 _‘Or, push Cormac off it.’_ She had the snigger at the mental imagine of seeing him crash to the ground in high-speed. How glorious would that feel? _‘"Try him on for size," she said. Fucking Ally and her no good fucking advice.’_

 

Cormac chose that moment to put his arm around her shoulders and pull her closer, too close. “Kay-tee,” he whispered, spitting in her ear in the process.

 

His warm breath on her cold skin gave Katie the shivers, just not the good, toe-curling ones he was aiming for. It only made her want to rub her skin raw.

 

“What?” she barked and not so subtly tried to push his arm off. As expected, he didn't pick up on the not so subtle hint.

 

“Do you want something from Honeydukes? We’ll go to Madam Puddifoot’s for tea after that. My treat, of course.”

 

Puddifoot’s was out the question; he would have to drag her dead body there and even then, she would find a way to resurrect herself and jump off that bridge she'd been thinking about earlier. She wasn’t that romantically challenged, thank you very much.

 

Katie quickly glanced at the sweets shop in the distance. She could go for something to nibble, but Honeydukes was packed, bursting out the seams with students. Shuffling shoulder to shoulder in such a crowded little shop wasn't high on her want-to-do-list, certainly not with Cormac by her side, but she did want sweets. Maybe...

 

“I’d love some Sugar Quills,” she told him sweetly and took a step back, furiously batting her eyelashes. “Can you get them for me? I’ll wait here.”

 

Her tone left no room for argument and Cormac went off to get the desired candy. He turned around every few steps to make sure that she was waiting where she said she would. As soon as he disappeared into the shop, Katie sighed in relief and looked around for possible escape routes; there was no need in dragging this day out any longer. Hopefully, it would take him ages to return, and by then, she'd be long gone.

 

Further down the street, Katie noticed Flint’s cousin and her pug-nosed friend. Both girls were talking to a rather nice looking bloke, another Slytherin.

 

_‘What’s his name? Nobbs, Nogg?’_

 

The way Millicent blushed each time the bloke spoke to her was adorable, which made Katie's brows shoot up to her hairline. She had never imagined the girl to be, well, a girl. Millicent’s whole stance changed when a rather bored-looking blonde girl joined them. She seemed nice to the girls, but when the boy put his arm around her waist, her whole frame froze in irritation. She scowled but didn’t shake off his arm.

 

_‘Do I look like that when I’m with McLaggen?’_

 

Most interesting was Millicent’s expression; from shy smiles and lovely blushes, it turned to that ever present angry glower.

 

_‘Poor girl, she must fancy him.’_

 

Katie was so engrossed in the little drama unfolding before her eyes that she forgot to escape McLaggen or pay attention to the other happenings around her. That's why she didn’t notice the large figure approach her until he stood behind her and leant down to whisper in her ear.

 

“Surprise, Princess.”

 

Katie's breath hitched in her throat; she’d recognise that voice out of thousands. How could she not? Ever since their first encounter, it had been dominating her dreams and fantasies.

 

She slowly turned, silently debating whether she should face him or run off like a bat out of hell. As soon as she laid eyes on him, her decision fell on the former. He stood in full glory: windswept hair, a red-tipped nose, and flashing his crooked teeth in a broad grin. She tried hard but eventually won the battle to resist the urge to counter his grin with one of her own.

 

“Did you miss me, love?” he asked and took a step closer.

 

_‘Yes.’_

 

“Surprisingly enough, no,” she replied tartly and folded her arms.

 

_‘They say I’m your girl.’_

 

His broad grin turned into a smirk. “Are you sure about that?”

 

Katie hummed in reply and tilted her chin to stare him down even though he was much taller than she was.

 

“I don’t believe you. You were too eager to use that first Portkey I'd sent you,” Marcus countered and took another step closer.

 

“A mistake on my part. Let’s keep it at a momentary lapse in sanity,” Katie retorted in fake nonchalance. In reality, she was starting to feel weak in the knees.

 

_‘Why do you have to smell so nice? It’s distracting.’_

 

Suddenly, he was very close, his body almost touching hers. His warm breath sent shivers down her spine -the good ones this time- when he leant in and murmured in her ear.

 

“Really now? You didn’t use it because you wanted another go?”

 

_‘Yes, I did. Please, can we do it again? Again and again and again…Maybe, we can try out other things too.’_

 

Katie shook her head; she wasn’t sure if it was to clear her mind or to rebuff him. “Don’t flatter yourself, Flint. It wasn’t all that good.”

 

Even to her own ears, it sounded unbelievable. But he was so close that he made her head spin, and she couldn't give in even though all wanted was to rest against his chest. She remembered lying comfortably on it that night.

 

“Compared to what?” he asked in slight confusion.

 

“I’ve kept myself busy since then. Y-you know, broadening my ho-horizon and whatnot.” She nodded to emphasise that she wasn't lying. "You know, dipping my quill in other inkwells."

 

“Liar,” he whispered in her ear again, making her poor knees even weaker.

 

_‘Yes, I lied. I need punishment. Punish me, please…’_

 

He was so close again, those deep grey eyes hypnotising her, and no doubt thinking the same things that she was: getting naked and doing unmentionable things. Katie felt a blush crawl up her cheeks; her whole body was probably a bright red now. Her eyes focussed on his lips, now so close to hers. She wanted to lick them just to see if they still tasted like Firewhisky. Her hands reached out and firmly clutched onto his robes for support.

 

_‘Almost, just a little closer now. Come closer, please.’_

 

The sound of two throats clearing broke the magic moment and Katie jumped away from Marcus. She could swear that he growled in frustration, just as she did. Cormac stood there gawking at her, in his hands he held what seemed to be a bouquet of Sugar Quills while Millicent threw annoyed glances between the three of them, tapping her foot as usual.

 

“What’s going on here?”


	7. Hogsmeade weekend, part 2

_‘Come on! I was so close.’_

Katie wanted to stomp her feet in frustration and curse Millicent and that idiot Cormac for interrupting a potential good snog. However, seeing the former's dark scowl, she quickly decided against it. It would probably turn into a fight she'd never win.

“Hi,” Katie greeted them sheepishly instead as she tried to put some respectable distance between herself and Flint before she gave into the urge to climb him like she had done the first time they had met. 

Not that it would have been that bad, but they weren't alone this time around and most of the Hogwarts students had the ability to put Rita Skeeter to shame with their gossiping. Seeing that they were right in the middle of Hogsmeade with Hogwarts out for the weekend, she needed the minimise the damage before word got back to her parents. 

Some of her schoolmates had already gathered around in curiosity, eyeing them like they were owls on display at the Magical Menagerie. That annoying Colin Creevey had his camera out, waiting for the money shot. Katie had no doubt that the little wanker had connections to the Prophet.

Flint, undisturbed by the attention, pulled her closer when she moved away a step too far for his liking. She had to admit, the way his arm curled around her waist felt good. His big hand lay just beneath her breasts over her jacket, and she couldn’t help but stare at his fingers. There was something about big, hairy hands.

 _‘What was it that Alicia said; you can do it while the bloke is holding you up? I bet Marcus is strong enough. But how would it work, though?’_

“Katie? Hullo?” Cormac snapped his fingers in her face in an attempt to gain her attention.

“What?” she hissed, pissed off that the git dared to interrupt her fantasy. It took her a few seconds to realise that they were in the middle of…something. What was it? “Oh, yes. You were saying?”

 

“What’s going on? What are you doing with him?” Cormac asked as he cocked his head at Flint.

“Nothing, just chatting about the weather,” Katie tried to sound casual, but it came out far too high-pitched. 

Flint chuckled in her ear as his hand crept closer up to her breasts. Perhaps she ought to unzip her jacket for him to grope her more easily. Her hands were already on her zipper when she noticed Cormac’s eyes bulging out their sockets. So, no unzipping, then.

“I mean, it-it's beautiful weather for the time of year.”

"Absolutely gorgeous," Flint agreed behind her. He put his hand on her bum, squeezing it just enough to make her jump up.

“Yeah, right, the weather,” Millicent muttered as she rolled her eyes. "And I'm a beauty queen."

_‘Not helping at all, you crow. You’re supposed to be on my side.’_

“Chatting? That close?” Cormac frowned as his cheeks reddened in anger when his eye caught Flint's other wandering hand. The Sugar Quills crumbled in his fist. “Why is he holding you like that? You’re supposed to be my date for today.”

Marcus’ hold on her tightened as whispered in her ear, “Who’s the prick?”

His warm breath tickled her cold skin, sending another shiver down her spine. Gods, he smelled nice.

_‘Dammit, Katie! Focus. Introduce them before Cormac ruins the Quills.’_

“Well?” both men asked in unison.

The situation was getting uncomfortable. Even more so than the time she had walked in on George and Ally at the WWW and caught her friend on her knees and her head between her boyfriend’s thighs. The thumbs up George had given her when he noticed Katie standing in the door opening had been the worst part. It had taken her ages before she'd been able to look at both of them without turning a tomato red.

_‘Gods, now I’m stuck with that image again.’_

“Flint, this is my, uhm, friend, Cormac,” Katie started awkwardly.

She wasn’t sure how to handle herself or the situation. After all, it wasn’t an everyday occurrence that one introduced the bloke she shagged to the bloke she very, very briefly thought about using for the same purpose. How would Angie handle this? She was bound to have some experience with these kinds of things.

“Cormac, meet Marcus Flint. My, uhm, my…” What was he to her? She had no idea on how to word it and turned her head for a little help. He had come to see her, so he must have thought about something, right? 

Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it, Marcus had an idea about it, all right. If she'd been able to see Cheshire Cat-like grin on his face, she wouldn't have asked him. 

“I’m Marcus,” he stated and then waved his hand between Katie and himself, waggling his brows. “We're shagging.”

Millicent gasped scandalised, Cormac growled and threw the Sugar Quills to the ground, even the crowd around them stilled in shock, soon followed by an excited buzzing. Colin Creevey was already snapping pictures, counting the Galleons he'd make. And Katie?

She froze at the statement. She had wanted to call him her almost-boyfriend, good friend, or something like that, certainly not what he just said. It sounded so crude when you put it that way and made her feel cheap. 

More forcefully, she stepped away from Marcus’ hold. Being held by him didn’t seem right anymore. Even if it were for a few minutes, her romantic fantasies had held potential again after that screaming hag debacle. And now, he had to ruin it all over again by opening his big gob.

“Uhm, that's, ah, not good,” Katie began, embarrassed beyond words. But, what was there to say? She didn’t owe Cormac an explanation, barely knew Millicent, and as far as she was concerned, Flint could jump off the bridge she'd wanted to push Cormac off. In other terms, it was time to leave.

“Wow, look at the time. I need to go.” She turned around and took off without a single glance back.

 _‘Fucking Angie and Ally, filling my head with this sex rubbish.’_

Normally, Katie wasn’t one for dramatic exits, but it would have been nice if someone had come running after her. Flint did call, she had to give him that, but he didn’t count since he was the reason her day had gone from bad to a bit better to 'please Earth, split open and swallow me whole'. With that in mind, her only response was flipping him the bird without turning around.

 _‘He probably wanted another go. That’s why he’s here. Not for you. Merlin’s saggy tits, now everybody knows. Fucking Flint, I hope his balls rot and fall off.’_

Back in her dormitory, Katie drew the curtains around her bed and didn’t emerge until late in the evening with a letter clutched in her hand. As she watched the owl fly away some time later, she knew that she had to forget all about Flint because what he’d done was unforgivable.

It was easier said than done, though; the thick-headed tosser had spell-o-taped himself onto her mind and for the life of her, she couldn't get rid of him. 

*****KM*****

“Just like that? She walked away, and you have no idea why?” Adrian chuckled in his glass. 

Marcus shook his head and downed his drink. He had never felt this miserable about a girl before. Not even when Georgina Goyle told him that she’d rather clean a dragon's den than snog him in his fourth year. Bell was supposed to be a one-time thing, not be on his mind day and night. And now, he had cocked it all up before it had begun and he didn’t even know what he’d done wrong.

“She must be mental, mate. Leaving you like that after you announce in the middle of Hogsmeade that you’ve shagged her. A head case, I tell ya',” Terence consoled as he tried hard to keep his voice steady and avoided eye contact with Adrian.

Marcus nodded, relieved that his friends understood his confusion. Instead of enjoying a nice lunch in Diagon Alley with Bell, he was drowning his sorrows with Firewhisky in his father's old study. Here he was, wanting to do something nice for a girl for the first time in his life and all he had managed was to piss her off.

“I still don’t understand. Then Millie goes and tells me I’m an idiot and that she is ashamed to be related to me. Maybe, it’s a woman thing?”

_‘Gods, let it be a woman thing. Perhaps, she has a deficiency like Sophia, and I got lucky?’_

“What about Goldilocks you said was with her? Perhaps, she had her eyes on him, and you’ve ruined that for her?” Adrian was nearly hyperventilating in his determination not to laugh.

Marcus shook his head, if Bell were really after that poofter, he'd gladly take a Bludger to the head. “I’ve watched them for nearly an hour before I caught her alone. She looked like she was about to set him on fire several times. But, what do I know? Could be normal behaviour for her.”

Terence poured another round of Firewhisky. The whole story was too hilarious, and booze would make it even better. “What happened to the boyfriend?”

“According to Millie, he’s her ex-boyfriend. He challenged me to a duel. I dunno, I think he’s still waiting somewhere for me,” Marcus said shrugging, not interested in the boy. “What am I gonna do about Bell?”

“Start with an apology-” Adrian started, only to be interrupted by Marcus.

“For what? I don’t even know what I’m supposed to be sorry for!” He wondered if he shouldn’t have stuck to his string of those one-night witches. At least he knew what to expect from them.

“What about telling everyone and their uncle about shagging her? Think about it, mate. Girls usually don’t like people knowing their business. Eh, girls like her, anyway,” Adrian explained, “How would you feel if someone said something like that about Millie?”

That was a sore spot for Marcus. “I'd cut them into ribbons if someone hurt Millie.”

He was overly protective of his little cousin, they were a close-knit family, and it had been ingrained from the moment she had been born to look after her. No one messed with his family. Then the Knut dropped, and his face fell. “Ah, Merlin’s bloody balls. I just wanted to get rid of the idiot.”

“Yeah, so apology first and then we’ll move on to Plan B, as we've discussed,” Adrian answered easily and took a bite from the sandwich Crumpet had prepared. 

“What’s plan B?” Since Sophia had the tendency to pry information from him and use it against others, none of his friends trusted Terence with confidential information anymore. Lucky for him, his wife left for a long trip to ‘find herself’. He just hoped that she would fall off a cliff somewhere. “Tell me.”

“Where's the missus?” Marcus and Adrian threw him suspicious looks, the last time they’d confided something in him it had cost Warrington his engagement. He still wasn’t talking to them.

“Gone on a very long and a very distant trip.” Terence grinned broadly and waggled his brows. “Now, tell me.”

That seemed to mollify the boys and Adrian went on to explain the plan he and Marcus had concocted after Bell had used the first Portkey. It was elaborate, nearly impossible, and it needed lots of planning, persuasion, and many Galleons. Luckily, Adrian was able to help with the first two; his job as Deputy Head at the Department of Magical Games and Sports allowed him certain privileges. Marcus had the money for the necessary bribes.

“That seems a bit far-fetched. And this will work how exactly?” Terence didn’t look all too convinced. Actually, it was a ridiculous plan, but he'd wait with saying that aloud until he heard the details.

Marcus looked at Adrian since he wasn’t sure himself how the plan was supposed to work. He had preferred to go straight to Plan C; drag Bell by the hair to his bedroom and never let her out. But, Pucey had blocked him on that one and moved that to option Z. Something about cavemen behaviour and had gone for hours and hours about wooing the girl and whatnot. How was he, Marcus Flint, supposed to woo a girl? He was hardly Myron Wagtail. The only thing he was good at was Quidditch and managing his father’s business.

“It will allow this idiot to spend time with the chit and let her know that he’s not only after getting into her knickers.” Adrian narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Am I right? You want more than getting into her pants?”

_‘Fucking Pucey and his morals.’_

Marcus felt caught because, in all honesty, he hadn’t thought about Bell further than getting her alone. “No, not only her knickers. I want all of her.”

_‘Preferably without the knickers or at the very least, easy access.’_

Neither of his friends looked convinced, but they let it slip for now. The prospect of planning and scheming was an exciting one, and they for one weren’t passing on it. It was Hogwarts all over again with the only difference that they were older, more experienced, and had unlimited resources at their disposal.

“Well then, I’ll drink to that.” Terence raised his glass, looking forward to seeing the plan would unfold. “Here’s to getting our mate a bird.”  


	8. Some girl talk

It was an hour past curfew and to Katie’s great relief, the corridors were empty. Sneaking out Gryffindor T had been hard enough and getting caught now after all the trouble she'd gone through to shake off her nosy housemates would be a pity.

Hidden in the long shadows, she hurried through the dimly lit corridor to the statue of Wilfred the Wistful: the entrance to the hidden passageway she had used a few weeks earlier. Again, she was sneaking out and the excitement she felt for breaking the rules was a bit disturbing. However, this needed to be done, even if it wasn’t the wisest of decisions seeing that expulsion so shortly before her N.E.W.T.s was her fate if Filch caught her.

In reaction to commotion further down the corridor, she ducked into a small alcove. Pressed flat against the wall, she held her breath when Filch and Mrs Norris passed her. The caretaker was whistling some off tone tune as he petted the purring hellcat in his arms. Katie had never seen the grumpy old man so, well, normal before. It was an unusual sight, disturbing even. Who knew there was an actual man behind the ever-present scowl? She sighed in relief when they rounded the corner. After another few seconds of waiting to ensure that he wouldn't return, she continued her way.

The statue was in sight, meaning that the most difficult part of her journey was about to begin: crawling through the dirt and cobwebs. Images of spiders and slimy creatures clouded her mind for a minute, and she was in her right mind to turn around and go back to her room. If it hadn't been the prospect of wine waiting for her at the end of the tunnel, she wouldn't have thought twice about sneaking out again. After the week she had, Katie reckoned that she deserved a glass of comfort.

“I might have a serious problem,” she mumbled as she thought of all the times she had used booze to soothe herself, celebrate, or ease boredom.

Her daydreams of drowning her sorrows were currently in danger of staying just that when she noticed someone standing beside the statue, engrossed in the map in his hands. The messy jet-black hair was a dead giveaway to who it was.

_‘Boo, you sod! Trying to sneak out, are we?’_

“Harry?”

Yelping in fright, her Housemate, Harry Potter, jumped up and turned around with his wand drawn. The black eye he got last week was already starting to fade away. It was a sickening purple with a ring of yellow now. It clashed well with his green eyes.

After last week’s disastrous Hogsmeade weekend, Katie had expected to be subject to gossip and teasing after Flint’s loud announcement. But they had left her alone, thanks to Harry and his ability to attract the wrong sort attention to himself without even trying. Thank Merlin for that boy’s bad luck.

That faithful Saturday, before Katie'd even reached her dormitory to wallow in her misery, Potter had started a good old-fashioned fistfight with a Slytherin boy named Theo Nott -the one Millicent had been fawning over- without no apparent reason. The fight had ignited a fresh feud between the Houses, and it was the only thing everyone talked about since then, forgetting Katie in the process. All but McLaggen that is. The prick had ‘dumped’ her over breakfast the next morning. Her reminder that they hadn’t been ‘together’ to begin with lost on him.

“Bloody hell, you scared me.” Harry pushed back his glasses, wincing when the frame touched his sensitive skin underneath his eye. “What are you doing here?”

“I can ask you the same thing.” Katie crossed her arms and cocked her head at the statue when she saw her housemate flush. “It seems, Potter, that we have the same plan for tonight. You know, deserting the fort, so to speak?”

“I guess,” Harry mumbled, avoiding her eyes, “Well, uh, in that case, carry on then.”

_‘Am I supposed to thank him now?’_

Katie rolled her eyes and pushed on a panel on the side of the statue, making it slide to the left. “Aren’t you coming?”

_‘Please say no, please say no.’_

Harry shook his head and hastily held up his map. “You go ahead. I, uhm, I am waiting for someone. Potions notes, we're sharing notes, yes.”

_‘Oh? Who could it be? Ginny? Cho? Tell me!’_

Something in his expression pleaded with Katie not to push for an answer, so she didn’t. They weren’t friends and besides, everyone was entitled to their secrets. Sweet Circe, she used to have plenty of them until Flint had opened his big mouth. After a muttered goodbye, she slipped into the tunnel, braving the cobwebs and slimy crawlers on her own.

*****KM*****

“And then I walked back to school. I couldn't think of anything else,” Katie concluded and took another sip from her Elderberry cordial. The drink warmed her from the inside out, just as Rosmerta had promised, and loosened her lips as Alicia had hoped.

She had underestimated the combination of the damp tunnel and the below zero temperatures outside. By the time she'd made it to the pub earlier, she had been wet and cold to the bone.

“Sodding idiot,” she cried in indignation. “When is it ever okay to blurt out something like that?”

Alicia nodded in understanding and took a gulp from her drink to hide her sniggers. The girls sat in the farthest corner of the Three Broomsticks, shielded away from curious eyes. It wouldn’t do anyone any good if word got back to Hogwarts that one of their students had snuck out and was doing her best to drink as much as cordial as her body could handle without falling over.

The letter Katie had written the night of the most embarrassing day in her life had been full of nonsense since actually writing out what bothered her was too painful. As usual, Alicia had picked up on the underlying tone and wrote Katie back to meet here tonight, worried that her friend was in mortal danger. Well, not mortal or in danger, but something had felt off. Although it wasn't out of the ordinary for Katie to write about McGonagall’s tartan robes or how the bristles on her broom were getting brittle, she had overdone it with an elaborate description of the texture of mash and bangers she had for dinner. Knowing her friend, she had reckoned that something was bothering her about boys or the lack thereof and she was too embarrassed to talk about it. Of course, Alicia had it by the right end. She just hadn’t expected this mess.

Katie felt a bit guilty for not asking Angelina to tag along. However, she needed serious advice and for that, you needed a sober Alicia. Angie had the ability to turn an innocent or severe conversation raunchy, whether she was drunk or sober. Katie didn’t need Divination to know what her friend’s advice would be; get under a bloke to get over a bloke. A philosophy she seemed to live by herself.

“He’s an idiot, no surprise there,” Alicia started. She had never liked Flint. The big-headed former Slytherin had always rubbed her the wrong way because he was a better player than she was. And while she was stuck as a reserve player, he had a flourishing career. “I’m surprised that he was able to talk properly. I always thought that his means of communication were grunting and huffing like all trolls do.”

 _‘Hey, that’s my Flint you’re talking about!’_ Katie scowled at her friend, strangely offended by her insult. “He’s quite articulate actually, and don’t call him a troll! Be nice.”

If Katie’s outburst stunned her, Alicia didn’t show. Instead, she sipped her tea and cocked her brow. “Are you done?” Seeing Katie nod, she continued, “Why do you care about what I say about Flint? Or what he says, for that matter?”

_‘Because he’s my Marcus!’_

Not sure how to answer, Katie shrugged and intently studied her miniature wine glass. Hearing Alicia insult him like that didn't sit well with her for some reason. If someone was to do that and had reason to do so, it was she.

“I just do. I don’t know why. That’s where you come in; I need you to tell me.”

“Why listen to me? The last time Angie and I told you to do something, you went home with that prick and got your cherry popped.” Alicia sighed when Katie cringed. How the girl had managed to have sex was beyond her. “Be honest here. What's this all about?”

Katie pouted, miffed that Ally was forcing her to say it aloud. Would she understand if she told her about all her fantasies since that first night with Marcus? How her heart fluttered in her chest whenever she thought about him? He dominated her dreams at night, making her resolution to forget all about him obsolete. She didn’t even understand herself.

“I understand.”

_‘Can she read minds now?’_

“You're thinking out loud, you idiot.” Alicia chuckled and then turned serious. “Listen, be honest with yourself for a minute. Don’t give me that look; I’m serious here. I know you, Katie. You had all these fantasies about how your first time was supposed to be, preferably on your wedding night, with the love of your life. Are you sure that you’re not trying to fit Flint into that picture? I mean, you two only had one actual conversation, and I think you had your wine goggles on for most of it. How well do you know him? Do you want to know him, really want to know him?”

Katie kept her eyes on her glass, processing what Alicia was telling her. Was she trying to mould Marcus into her expectations? Thinking back about that night in the Leaky, she had to admit that he had both annoyed and amused her. Halfway through their conversation, she had realised that he made her feel funny inside. That hadn’t been the wine trying to revolt, though, she was sure of it. Moreover, if she was honest with herself, she had wanted more than just a snog, even before he had suggested going somewhere else. And the only solution to figure why she felt that way was quite obvious now.

“I want to get to know him.”

Alicia inwardly groaned at her friend's answer, realising that there was a big chance that she would have to put up with Flint in the near future. Knowing Katie, and no matter how ludicrous it seemed right now, she was probably already planning her wedding. But, as it befitted a good friend, Alicia managed a half-hearted smile and patted her hand over the table.

“So, do you fancy him or is it your fanny speaking?”

Katie nearly choked on the sip she had just taken. Between coughs, she spluttered, “Excuse me? I’m not sure about fancying, yet, but it’s certainly not my You-Know-What speaking.”

Alicia laughed aloud at Katie’s indignation and flushed cheeks. Some things never changed. “Give it some more time. You still have months of school left. If you still feel the same way after your N.E.W.T.s, you should go for it.”

“What if he doesn’t want to get to know me? What if I was just an easy shag to him? I haven’t heard of him since last week. He's probably laughing at me with his friends.” Katie knew she was whining, but she had no one else to talk about these kinds of things and all her cropped up emotions came out in one go.

She had expected at least a dozen owls Flint-style with one or two-word apologies. Roses would have been nice, too, and maybe a present as compensation for humiliating her. None had come, though, and even Millicent was avoiding her. What if he found someone better in the meantime, someone easier, and forgot all about her? Who'd want to waste their time on a schoolgirl, anyway?

“In that case; good riddance and don’t waste your energy on him. Just forget and move on then. And in the case he does, make him pay for last week, hard, until he bleeds and begs for mercy. I can help you with that. George and Fred are looking for guinea pigs for their newest line all the time.”

Katie smiled as she thought of the twins. They were the best at getting revenge. “Thanks, Al. For meeting me, letting me vent, and wanting to hurt Marcus as much as I do.”

Alicia waved her off, “That’s what girlfriends are for, love. You’d do the same for me. Now if you really want to thank me, buy me something stronger than this shite. I’m parched.”

The rest of the night, the friends spent chatting and gossiping, mainly about Angie’s latest conquests and Alicia’s strong suspicions that something shifty was going on with that. The fact that no one had ever seen any of these conquests or that she conveniently forgot their names had triggered her inner Auror, and she had taken up shadowing their friend as much as possible. In the last three weeks, there hadn’t been a sign of a paramour, even though Angie had boasted about it. Katie agreed that it sounded curious, and she ordered Alicia to keep her updated to keep her distracted from her own woes.

It wasn’t until the clock struck midnight that a tipsy Katie returned to Hogwarts. And despite having trouble to walk a straight line, she managed to avoid Filch like the professional she was. Sneaking out had been worth it, she felt relaxed for the first time in a week. Her talk with Alicia had lifted her spirits and relieved her more than she had expected.

And what was even better, was the russet coloured owl impatiently waiting for on her windowsill, keeping her dorm mates awake with its incessant pecking and hoots. She gladly ignored their curses and threats to report her to McGonagall. The thick envelope attached to the bird's leg demanded all her attention.

As she turned envelope in her hands, pillows were flung in her direction. She still couldn't be bothered, though. In fact, a fond smile crept up her face. The messy scrawl could only belong to one person.

Marcus Flint had finally resurfaced.


	9. The not so master plan

February rolled into March and Katie found time slipping away from her at an alarming rate. Her workload for school only seemed to have doubled with her final exams in sight. Quidditch had become more brutal usual since Harry decided to dump his newly found anger issues on his teammates and forced them to train five times a week. She didn’t know who put or what caused that stick up his arse, but if he kept on like this, he was in danger of ending up on the wrong side of a stray Bludger. Most likely, she would be the one hitting it his way.

For the first time in weeks, it didn’t rain, and the watery sun preluded the spring to come. Katie decided to spend her lunch outside to soak up the first rays. She wasn’t in the mood to sit in the noisy Great Hall; her head was pounding, and she was still sore all over from colliding with Demelza during training last night. The girl was as pliable as a rock and Katie wasn’t sure what had hurt the most: hitting Demelza or crashing to the ground at high speed.

Katie groaned as she tried to find a comfortable position to sit in on the stairs and failed. Every fibre in her abused body hurt too much. It would have been more sensible to visit Pomfrey for a pain-relief potion. But the thought of straining her muscles by climbing, crawling in her case, all those stairs wasn’t all that appealing. With a sigh and an accusatory glance at the stone steps, she gave up and chose the easiest way; letting herself fall on her bum.

Her afternoon Charms class would have to do without her; she wasn’t planning on getting up any time soon. Besides that, the mere idea of swishing and flicking her wand was pure torture.

“Ow, ow, ow!” Katie cried when her bum hit the cold hard steps. Exaggeration was a fine art, and she needed to be convincing in case one of the professors decided to go for a stroll and found her here when she was supposed to be in class.

After pulling herself together and summoning the last of her energy, Katie reached for her schoolbag and dug up a torn envelope and her new diary; a present from Marcus he had sent two weeks ago. The accompanying letter didn't say much and was barely more than a rag, torn and creased. He had crossed and scratched over words, spilt ink on it, and most likely had crumpled the letter in frustration and smoothed it out again to send it after all.

From what she had deciphered -his scribbling resembled Ancient Runes at best- the diary was another way of making up for his cock up, a sentiment she happened to agree with.

Not that she would have given the option, but Katie had to admit that the diary was too beautiful to turn down. The dark leather cover had her name embossed in elegant golden letters. Together with the gold-plated lock and corner covers made it something from a fairy-tale. What girl does not like a fairy-tale?

“So pretty,” she murmured in a low voice as she ran her finger along the spine. The smooth leather felt like silk to the touch. The itch to write in it was overwhelming again. It was as if the diary called out to her, urged her to put her quill on paper and entrust it with her deepest secrets. Without thinking, she grabbed a quill and opened to a new page. She had some much to tell.

Ever since receiving it, Katie had written in it whenever she could. Which, in all honesty, turned out to be all the time, even when she didn't have the time. Several nights in a row already she'd stayed up late just to pen down something. From simple things, from what she had done that day to her disturbing thoughts and fantasies about Marcus and her frustration with him for not having contacted her since sending the diary. Even though he didn't talk back, writing it all down did felt like chatting with him.

Her aches and pains momentarily forgotten, her quill scratched furiously over the paper. Her thoughts were overflowing today, mainly about what she would say and do to Marcus when their paths crossed again. She was just right in the middle of tying him down and working him over with hot wax -Angie had written her about doing that last week to some sod- when someone flopped down next to her. She groaned inwardly at the disturbance and looked up scowling, only to come eye to eye with a miserable looking Millicent.

Katie’s frustration with the unwanted visitor turned to apprehension. With the currently raging feud between Gryffindor and Slytherin, you couldn’t be too careful in the presence of a snake, no matter how harmless they seemed. It wouldn't be the first time one of them tried to hex her fun.

“Hi?” she asked and looked around to see if other Gryffindors were nearby in case she needed help.

“You’re skiving off too?” Millicent asked.

“Yeah, I feel a bit under the weather,” answered Katie. The black circles under Millicent’s eye were even more prominent than she recalled. Maybe, she was sick. “Are you alright?”

“I always am.” Millicent shrugged and looked away. She didn’t need to hear again that she looked like shit. “Like you, a bit under the weather, I guess.”

Katie didn’t believe her for a minute and was dying to interrogate her further on the matter. But as it was, she barely knew her, and the chances of her confiding in her were slim to none. That didn’t mean that she was not going to try, of course.

“Are you sure? So, it has nothing to do with that boy you were talking to last time in Hogsmeade?”

Millicent, who had been rummaging in her schoolbag, briefly froze at Katie’s words. As she returned to her rummaging, she quietly said, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. I am having a bad day, s’all.”

_‘Sure, and I’m Snape’s favourite student.’_

“What’s his name again? Nobbs, Nicks?” Katie continued with a sly grin, pretending not to have heard Millicent. Deflecting from her troubles and focussing on others was always so much more fun. It made her feel good about herself.

Millicent didn’t look up and looked like she wanted to crawl into her bag. “Theo Nott. He is just a friend.”

_‘Yeah, and Marcus is prince charming on a white Pegasus.’_

Katie was about to ask further when Millicent looked up and tilted her head when she noticed the leather-bound book. “Oh, you’ve got one,” she remarked in surprise.

“Got what?”

“You’ve got the Riddle Diary. My mum wanted to give me one for Christmas, but there is a waiting list for them. Can I see?” She judged Katie’s hesitation correctly when she hastily added, “I won’t open it, promise.”

_‘I’d like to see you try.’_

Katie handed over the diary after spelling the lock shut. She wasn’t about to take a Slytherin's word for it. “Careful,” she warned, “Twas a gift.”

Millicent admired the leather-bound book in her hand, turning it over a few times. “It’s dragon hide, isn’t it? To be honest, I am glad that Mum didn’t manage to get one. It’s bad enough that I must listen to her yap non-stop at home and read her daily owls when I'm here, having her bother me every day would probably drive me crazy. So, who has the other half?”

_‘I didn’t know that she could string this many words together. Wait, what?’_

“What 'other half'?”

“This one's twin.” Millicent held up the diary. Seeing the confused look on Katie’s face, she narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “You do know what a Riddle Diary is, don’t you?”

“A brand?” Katie felt a little stupid. Her only interests were Quidditch and Quidditch gear; she was rarely up to date about what was hip and happening outside that. She usually brushed off her friends' attempt to catch her up because, well, she didn't care.

“Sweet Salazar,” Millicent said sighing and rubbed her face. “Let me guess; Marcus gave you this? Without an explanation?”

_‘I don’t like the sound of this.’_

Katie nodded as dread began to form in the pit of her stomach. Already feeling another bout of embarrassment at the hands of Flint coming up, she snatched her diary back. “What does it do? What's so special about it?”

“Whatever you write in this one immediately becomes visible in its twin and vice versa. That’s why my mum wanted to get me one so that we could keep in touch every hour of the day,” Millicent answered. “Some use it to pass on test and exam questions.”

“Oh fuck.”

“Yeah, I’ve guessed so much.” Millicent nodded knowingly.

The girls sat in silence for a while as Katie’s mind reeled into a million different directions in panic. Her most intimate thoughts were described in there, and Flint knew all of them now.

“Oh Gods,” she groaned and dropped her head to her knees as bile rose in her throat.

“It can’t be that bad?” Millicent offered, knowing very well how humiliating it could be when someone read your most intimate thoughts. She had learnt her lesson the hard way at the age of twelve when her mother thought it'd be funny to read her daughter’s diary out loud during tea time with her friends.

“It is. It really, really is. I’ve written things in there that I haven’t told anyone else. What am I going to do?”

_‘Run away. Yes, I’ll pack my bags and emigrate to…to Peru. No-one knows me there. I hear that they have Quidditch there.’_

“Well, uhm, I have an idea. You just have to use your imagination.”

By the end of Millicent’s short explanation on how to get back at Marcus for his latest stunt, Katie felt a little bit better. The plan wasn’t perfect, and it required a lot of creative writing. But all in all, it promised to be fun.

*****KM*****

As he had always done in times of stress, Marcus paced up and down the room as he muttered under his breath. Any minute now, Pucey would return with the final verdict on their master plan. The answer had to be yes; people had been persuaded and the necessary bribes paid. The only thing missing was the final go from Dumbledore.

_‘If he says no, I’ll push him off the Astronomy Tower.’_

Marcus was getting more desperate with each passing day. Judging by everything Bell had written in the diary, her interest was declining at a rapid pace. Since a week or two, her focus had shifted to other blokes. Who the fuck was Roger Davies and why was Bell kissing him behind the rosebushes? Why was she suddenly gushing about McLaggen’s strong arms? But the most disturbing of them all were her fantasies about Snape. She had described the dour man’s deep voice and the things it did to her in way too much detail. 'Thigh clenching' she kept calling it. Fucking Snape!

He knew very well that giving her a Riddle Diary without informing was a tad bit unethical seeing that he had no intention of writing her back anytime soon. But, since Pucey told him to woo the girl, it had seemed the best option to learn something about her. How was he supposed to woo her otherwise if he didn't know where to start?

In the last few weeks, he had learnt that blurting out personal details to others was not acceptable, that she liked lots of chocolate whenever she was on her monthlies, and that she had some rad fantasies about hot wax and blindfolds. All those were useful pointers he could work with, all thanks to Riddle.

“Will you sit down? Your making me dizzy,” Higgs drawled.

Ever since Sophia had fallen off the face of the earth, he'd become a permanent fixture at the manor much to Marcus’ annoyance. All the man did was drink his finest Ogden and sit in his favourite chair ordering Crumpet around.

“What’s taking him so long? There must be an answer by now!” Marcus exclaimed without stopping his pacing. He wasn't a patient man by nature and the wait drove him stir-crazy.

“It’s only been two hours. You can’t expect Adrian to bolt out there as soon as he has his answer.”

“Why not? Sounds reasonable to me.”

Terence watched his friend in amusement. He had rarely, never actually, seen Marcus this worked up about a girl before. Whatever spell that Bell girl put on him must have been a strong one. He just hoped that she didn’t turn out like his Sophia, demented as hell.

Luckily, Marcus’ torment ended when Adrian finally returned a few minutes later. He had spent his free Saturday afternoon in the company of his Head of Department, Mr Crouch, and Albus Dumbledore to convince the latter to put their plan into action.

He dragged his feet as he entered the study and slumped into the first chair he came across. For the past two hours, he had witnessed the two older men budding heads on every imaginable subject. Where Crouch had got winded up by the minute, Dumbledore had remained infuriatingly calm, complete with twinkling eyes and lemon sherbets.

Adrian was sure that at one point, his former Headmaster had read his mind. The way the man had briefly narrowed his eyes at him had made him feel like if he was sixteen again and just got caught in one of the broom closets with his trousers around his ankles. The whole day had been utterly draining, and he needed a drink, badly.

“Well,” Marcus asked expectantly, “Out with it.”

Adrian shook his head. “No.”

“No? What do you mean 'no'?”

“No, as in not going to happen, ever. The old codger didn’t budge, instead went on and on about students’ safety and how allowing such an event on Hogwarts grounds for a few days could endanger his students’ wellbeing and some other bull.” He'd discuss the subject of the ‘other bull’ in a few minutes.

Terence’s boisterous laugh broke the tense silence that had followed Adrian’s explanation. He hadn't helped with the machinations, finding the plan too ludicrous to begin with, but seeing the disappointed faces was just too funny to keep quiet. How could they have thought that this would be a good idea? A murderous glare from Marcus stopped his laughing, and he cleared his throat to explain.

“C'mon, Dumbledore’s answer can’t be a surprise. I mean, did you honestly expect him to host the Premier League try-outs at Hogwarts? Those are public events with a lot of public, you arses. The risk of brawls with that many Quidditch fanatics in one place is too high. Remember the last World Cup and the following riots? Crouch can plant the whole of the MLE on Hogwarts grounds, and he still won’t be able to guarantee that nothing will happen.”

“Now you tell us,” Adrian snapped.

“You were too busy with planning to listen to me, remember?” Terence shrugged; feeling satisfied that he got that off his chest. “I’m surprised that Crouch went along with the idea in the first place. How much did you pay him?”

Marcus felt defeated, how was he going to win over Bell now? He couldn’t wait for another few months until she finished school. Too much could happen in the meantime, like her running off with Snape. “What am I supposed to do now?”

“Wait until Easter. You've said it yourself that she had permission to attend the try-outs. It’s just a few weeks away,” Terence offered, believing that some exercise in patience would be good for his friend.

Marcus shook his head; Easter was too far away. If Dumbledore had gone along with his plan, he would have volunteered at Hogwarts every weekend to help with the preparations and during the try-out week, he would have camped there with Bell right under his fingertips. Waiting six weeks wasn't an option, certainly not after reading her diary. She was already well on her way to forget about him as it was.

Adrian cleared his throat; it was time for the ‘some other bull’ part of the conversation. He felt Marcus’ pain. He did, but his friend hadn’t been the one to face their all-knowing former Headmaster and then had to explain to his boss what the man was talking about.

“There is something else. Uhm, right, just before we left, Dumbledore took me aside for a minute.”

"To laugh in your face, I reckon," Terence mumbled in his glass.

“Yeah, funny. No, he told me that he was allowing an extra Hogsmeade-weekend next week and suggested that I tell ‘my friend’ to be a proper gentleman and ask the girl out in a normal fashion.”

The last bit of the ‘other bull’ part came when Adrian pulled out something from his inner pocket, which turned out to be a leather-bound book. Marcus didn’t need to read the golden letters on the cover to know to whom it belonged since its twin lay on his nightstand. He grabbed the diary out Adrian’s hands, thankful it was spelt shut.

“How did you get this?”

“As of today, Riddle Diaries are on the forbidden items list. Something about manipulations and cheating. Dumbledore requested me to return it to its rightful owner.” Adrian slumped further in his chair. “Come on, mate. I need a drink.”

Marcus resumed his pacing again. His plans were falling apart around him.

“What am I supposed to do now?” he repeated his earlier question and wished he could drink himself into a stupor right now. That he had to play against Puddlemere tonight, was the only thing holding him back. The urge to crush Wood after what he had read last night needed satiating.

_‘She's seen him naked. When did that happen? Why did that happen?’_

Terence, who had been pouring an Ogden for himself and Adrian, turned around. “Here is a crazy idea: do what Dumbledore's suggested and ask the girl out on a date.”

“Ask her out? Just like that?” The idea was crazy indeed, too simple. “How would that work?”

Terence nodded, realising why his two friends were still single. Neither knew how to approach women. “Yes, just like that. It isn't that difficult.”

“Speak for yourself,” Adrian grumbled.

“I’ll help you.”

It took him a few hours, and his good intentions shortened his life with a decade or two by answering frustrating questions, but Terence helped Marcus with composing a decent letter. Having grown up with three older sisters, he knew something about what girls liked to hear. To be fair to Adrian, he had it by the right end when he said that girls wanted to be wooed.

That afternoon, as Marcus watched his owl fly off with the most romantic letter he had ever written and really hoped that he wasn’t too late to get Bell to say yes to him.


	10. The Date part 1: Primping

_Dear Katie,_

  
_You probably must be thinking how strange it is to receive a letter from me. I am not accustomed to writing more than a few words, but I wanted to give it a try. I'm writing this to explain to you how I feel._

  
_First, let me tell you how astoundingly beautiful you were that night at the Leaky. When I walked into the place, I almost immediately saw you and hoped that, maybe, you would accept a drink from me. Never in my wildest dreams had I expected you to walk up to me for a chat and drink. When you gave me the privilege of having you in my arms that night, I felt like the luckiest man in the world even though you left the next morning before I woke up._

  
_Again, I let me tell you how sorry I am for that night when you had to encounter my friend’s less than_ sane _wife. And I'm sorry for embarrassing you in front of your friends in Hogsmeade. To add to that, giving you that diary without explaining what it does isn’t my proudest moment either. I just wanted to get to know you better in the hopes to court you properly one day._

  
_I know we don’t know each other for very long, and you are still in school, but you've bewitched me. I like you, Bell. Your eyes, your smile that can brighten up my day by just thinking about it, your hair, the way your body felt in my arms, and your voice. When I hear your voice, my heart skips a beat. I want to get to know more about you and hope that you feel the same way._

  
_Will you honour me with accepting my invitation to go for lunch next Saturday?_   
_Please let me know your answer as soon as possible._

  
_I remain yours,_

  
_Marcus Flint_

 

Katie had read the letter the numerous times a day since receiving it and today was no different. To say that it was a surprise to get such a sentimental letter from Marcus, would be an understatement. She must have compared the handwriting a dozen times to the other notes to make sure that he truly was the one who had sent it. After concluding that it was him who'd written it, she might have done a little happy dance in the common room, earning her concerned looks from her Housemates. They had assumed that she’d fallen off her broom one too many times, and had turned to Harry Potter with accusatory glares for overworking his team.

Not that Katie had noticed. After her dance, she'd dashed to her dormitory to write a letter. Not to Marcus, of course. No, this had required female advice. Preferably from someone with loads of experience since there were so many things she needed to learn.

Should she turn him down and play hard to get (not a chance in hell on that one). Or what about how to respond (‘Gods, I thought you'd never ask. Why wait a week?’ was probably out the question). Then there was the thing about what to expect during a lunch date (to snog or not to snog).

As befitting a good friend, Alicia had written her back within the hour with solicited and unsolicited advice like wait a day before sending a reply so you don’t come off too eager, keep your note short and concise, and see how the date goes before deciding on the snogging. All of which had been useful advice.

The only thing that Katie still hadn't figured out was why wearing her ugliest undies and not shaving certain body parts could be helpful. Was it some sort of good luck charm? Not daring to ask details in fear of what the answer might be, she'd decided that it'd be for the best to ignore those two bits of help. Ugly underwear was no problem since it was all she had, but forgoing personal hygiene was not up for debate.

Waiting a whole day before writing Marcus back must have been the longest twenty-four hours in her life. From all the eloquent replies Katie had composed in her head that night, she'd ultimately chosen the simplest one the next day. ‘Yes’ because what more was there to say?

Against all expectation, the had week flown by and before Katie knew it was Hogsmeade Weekend again.

She stood in next to her bed dressed in her ugly undies and a towel wrapped around her wet hair. In less than an hour, the gates were to open, and if everything went accordingly, Marcus would be waiting on the other side. If only she could decide what to wear, not that she had much choice since she usually wore her uniform and only brought a few jeans and jumpers for the weekends. Asking Ally or Angie to send her something was out the question. Katie still wasn't sure what the piece of cloth they had sent the last time was.

“A skirt, my bare arse,” she snorted when she thought about the thin strip of fabric.

Her eye fell on the letter again, and she couldn’t help but wonder who had whispered the words to write in Marcus’ ear. The letter, although she appreciated it, didn’t sound like something he would have come up with. Not that it bothered her, it was the sentiment that counted after all. She just wished that he had been clearer on where they were going so that she'd know what to wear.

“Start getting dressed, you bint,” she urged herself and turned her attention to the clothes laid out on her bed.

“Light blue jeans with the green jumper or the dark blue ones with the purple blouse?” Katie mused, tapping her chin. Her roommates had already left for breakfast without bothering to wait for her or offer advice. Her constant muttering under breath over the past few days had left them a bit wary, afraid that Katie was losing her marbles.

“Bloody barmy,” she parroted what she'd heard her dorm mates whisper behind her back.

And maybe, she was a little. How other girls went through the torture of getting ready for a date without setting everything on fire was beyond her. She was about to pull her hair out in frustration. Why oh why hadn’t she brought nicer clothes with her?

“It’s just Flint. He already saw me at my drunkest and still took me home,” she encouraged herself. A quick glance at the clock informed her that she had ten minutes left.

Taking a deep breath, she picked up the newest of her jumpers and jeans. “Here goes.”

*****KM*****

Right outside the Hogwarts' gates, a hulky figure holding on to a bouquet of roses impatiently waited for his date to come out. Dressed in his best robes and doused in the most expensive cologne for sale in Diagon Alley, Marcus counted down the minutes until the gates would open. The shiny new shoes on his feet hurt. The charm to enlarge for a bit more comfort was already fading, and he was too nervous to cast another one.

His usually unkempt mop of black hair was slicked and parted in the middle, and he was so closely-shaven that he had nicked himself a few times in the process. The skin on his throat and chin still burnt like a raging fire since he'd put on the cologne. But it didn't matter; Bell was worth the struggles.

A four-course lunch at Le Gavroche in London awaited them. Marcus didn’t particularly care for fancy French meals because he always left the restaurant hungry. Nor did he care for the ridiculous clothing and extensive primping. But, according to Higgs, women wanted well-dressed men and meals in high-end restaurants, so he had no choice left than to oblige if he wanted to impress Bell.

Marcus righted his spine when the gates finally opened. Hordes of students poured out, and none of them was Katie. He did see that McLaggen bloke, who challenged him to another duel before his wise friends dragged him off. Shortly after that, he had to shoo Millie and Pansy off, who'd wanted to say hello and chat for a while. His cousin hissed in response, and both girls gave him the two-finger salute, just the way he had taught them when they were eight. Especially Millie had always been a good student, and it made him very proud to see that she hadn’t forgotten her lessons.

The worst were the Quidditch fans, though. Every few seconds someone pushed a piece of paper under his nose and demanded him to sign it. Not to mention the two boys who temporarily blinded him with the flashing bulbs on their cameras. It took all of his self-control not to hex the two idiots. Couldn’t they see that he was waiting for his girl here?

“It’s just lunch, you idiot. No need in getting your hopes up,” he grumbled as hopped on his throbbing feet, scaring away a young girl.

Now that the crowd was thinning out without a sign of Bell, his heart plummeted. Had she changed her mind? He had been waiting for her since sunrise and now, after hours of waiting, she didn’t even bother showing up.

“Where are you?” he murmured, and loosened his suffocating collar.

Another ten minutes later he was ready to walk away when someone called out his name.

“Oi, Flint, wait for me!”

*****KM*****

“Stupid, stupid twat.”

Katie ran towards the gates faster than she had ever before. After getting dressed, taking care of her hair, and debating on putting on makeup or not, she was nearly a half hour late. And of course, just when she was ready to step out the portrait hole, Potter had chosen that moment to inform her about some new tactics for the upcoming match against Ravenclaw. Then he had to go and demand that the team should forgo Hogsmeade and gather for an extra training session that afternoon. Walking away without seriously injuring the boy had been quite an accomplishment for her.

_‘Upcoming, he says. Two months, we have two months, you idiot!’_

She stopped dead in her tracks when Marcus caught her eye. At least, she guessed that it was him seeing that he looked almost unrecognisable. From all the things she had expected, Marcus Flint with far too much gel in his hair and dressed as if he was about to go to a ball hadn't been one of them. The smell of strong cologne wafted through the air, and she couldn’t help but feel a bit disappointed that it wasn’t the same delicious scent he had worn the last two times she had seen him.

_‘What happened to his hair? Why is he dressed like that?’ she thought as she slowly came closer._

Apart from the hair, the cuts on his chin and the strong cologne, he looked almost handsome in his fancy clothes. Compared to Marcus, she looked like a tramp on a scavenger hunt with her jeans and trainers. Judging by his clothes, wherever it was he'd planned to take her, it was most probably an expensive place. Her face fell at that thought; she only brought enough money with her for a sandwich and beer. Maybe, she should call it off and try again in a few years. Preferably around the time that Galleons started growing on trees.

“Hi,” she started shyly, suddenly at a loss for words. “Sorry, I’m late.”

She wanted to explain that it took her a bit longer because she couldn't decide what to wear, but compared to him that seemed hardly believable.

“S’alright,” he mumbled, frowning at her clothes. “Do you need more time? I can wait.”

“More time for what?” Katie felt the heat rise her cheeks. Of course, she knew what he meant. “Uhm, no, I’m ready.”

Marcus' frown deepened. “Are you sure?”

Could this get more awkward?

_‘Dear Mother Earth, please open up and swallow me whole.’_

That didn’t happen, and the uncomfortable situation carried on as they stood in silence, both unsure of what to say next. A group of giggling girls strolled by, not so discretely pointing and whispering. As soon as they passed, Katie put her big girl knickers on and quietly said,

“I, ah, I thought we were going for a simple bite. I-I don’t have enough money for something fancy.”

“Why would you need money?” Marcus frowned in confusion. He didn't have much experience with the whole dating thing, but he was fairly sure that he was supposed to pay. Right? “I thought that the asker paid. And since I asked you...”

“Yeah, absolute, I think.” Katie nibbled on her bottom lip. The first and last time she'd gone on something that resembled a date had been with Cormac, and he'd been adamant about splitting the bill. And when she'd complained about it, Angie had made her believe that it was standard practice these days. Was Flint old-fashioned or had her friend fooled her?

“So, where are we going?”

Marcus studied her clothes again and then looked down at his own. “Do you like posh restaurants?”

Katie shrugged, trying to recall the tedious event she had gone out to dinner with her parents. Her father had saved up for months to take them out to a new fancy restaurant in Diagon Alley to celebrate her mum's birthday. The long wait between the courses and the barely recognisable bits of food had left them less than satisfied.

“No, not really. Dad took my Mum and me to one once. We ended up getting fish and chips at the Leaky right after desserts because we were too hungry.” As soon as she blurted out the words, she regretted them. What if she'd ruined his plans now?

_‘The day just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it?’_

To her surprise, though, Marcus grinned widely at her confession and took a step closer. Whatever she'd said, it must have been the right answer.

He pulled her into his arms and whispered in her ear before Apparating, “Good, we can go and have real fun then.”

But first, he needed to change into something more comfortable.


	11. The date part 2: The actual date

Feeling rather uncomfortable, Katie sat on Marcus’ bed as she waited for him to get out the shower. He’d wanted to wash off that stench that was supposed to be cologne and the ridiculous amount of gel in his hair. She couldn’t blame him since he smelt and looked awful. Hearing him whistle the Weird Sisters’ newest song off tune would have been funny if she hadn't been so nervous that she couldn't stop her hands from shaking. Each time she had ended up in his bedroom something memorable had happened. Such as giving up her virginity and nearly getting hexed by a madwoman.

Immediately after Apparating to his house, Marcus had offered her to wait in his study while he changed for their day together. He had sensed her nervousness correctly; if he had dragged her to his bedroom without asking, Katie reckoned that she'd have bolted without a glance back. 

She would have accepted his offer if it hadn’t been for that damn scary creature that had popped out of nowhere. Why the wealthy Purebloods insisted on owning house-elves was beyond her. With their overly large eyes, big ears, and pointy noses, the creatures just scared her. At Hogwarts, she had a silent understanding with the elves; they stayed out her sight, and she didn’t curse them. It was a win-win for all.

But Flint's beast, ‘Crumpet’ he'd called the thing with fondness, hadn’t got the memo apparently and had appeared out thin air minutes after landing in the study. The elf had bowed so deep in his eagerness to please his master that his nose had dragged over the Persian rug, leaving a small trace of goo behind. 

In all fairness, the creature from hell didn’t seem to be all too fond of her either. He had given her the evil eye, hissed and spat at her while Marcus hadn’t been looking, and it had even asked at what time the harlot ought to be removed from the manor. Although that last bit was a bit bothersome, Katie didn’t dwell on it too much for now and locked it away for a more appropriate time to discuss it.

No, staying alone in the study hadn't been an option if she were to make it through the day alive. Undoubtedly, Crumpet was already plotting to poison her. And even while she sat here, in Marcus' room, she was pretty sure the elf was prowling behind the closed door, waiting for her to come out and ambush her.

_‘Don’t be stupid. It’ll need orders to do that.’_

In an attempt to take her mind off deranged elves, Katie walked to one of the large windows overlooking the magnificent gardens. If she wasn't mistaken, the Flint Manor gardens were charmed to stay in a perpetual state of spring time. Carefully tended flowerbeds, numerous rosebushes, and neatly trimmed hedges surrounded freshly mown grass for as far as the eye could see. In the distance, a pool of some sorts glistened in the sunlight. Maybe after whatever Marcus had planned for them, they could go for a swim.

“Enjoying the view?”

Katie jumped a little at the sudden interruption and turned around to answer him. As soon as she laid eyes on him, she quickly turned to watch the garden again. Marcus stood dripping wet in the middle of the room, a minuscule towel wrapped around his hips. It barely covered him, there. 

“Y-yes. It’s, ah, beautiful.”

_‘Get yourself together! You’ve seen him naked before!’_

That train of thought didn’t help at all. Images of seeing him starkers and in full glory for the first time and all the things they had done right after that flashed before her eyes. Suddenly, the need for turning back and study him was overwhelming. Just to see if he looked the same as in her memory now that she was sober. It wouldn’t be the first time she thought things looked good when drunk.

“Thank you,” he said chuckling, “You can turn around now.”

“Oh.”

_‘Dammit, too late.’_

Marcus stood in only his underpants in front of the large wardrobe, pulling out several items. Katie couldn’t help but admire the muscles in his back stretching and relax with each movement. Quidditch could do so much with building muscles, so he must be doing some other sport on the side. She appreciated a taut bum on a man, and his tight pants accentuated the curve beautifully. It would have been perfect if he hadn't worn them, though.

_‘They feel good too, remember? Hard as steel.’_

It suddenly became very, very warm in the room, and Katie wondered if she'd be able to pull off casting a cooling charm on herself without him noticing. 

“So, uhm, what are we gonna do today?” She didn’t care for what he had planned; watching him parade around in his undies was all right with her. Or, if she was lucky, completely naked.

_‘Get your mind out the gutter, you perv. No sex on the first date.’_

“Well, the plan was a fancy lunch and sightseeing in London. We can still go to London and grab a bite somewhere,” Marcus answered as he compared two shirts.

Katie scrunched up her nose; she had seen the city many times already. Besides, the risk of walking into her parents or one of the girls was too high for her liking. As she glanced out the window, an idea popped up. “We could stay here. It’s lovely weather outside.”

_‘And you have a psychotic house-elf who can prepare food for us.’_

“It’s always lovely weather outside,” Marcus answered absentmindedly. It didn’t take long for the suggestion to sink in, and he turned around in surprise. “You want to stay here?”

When she nodded in answer, he licked his lips as he looked her up and down. Trying to find the easiest way to get her out of her clothes, no doubt.

“I know what you’re thinking, Flint. That’s not going to happen.” Katie waggled her finger at him in indignation. She needed to make it seem as if she hadn't thought the same. “I mean that we should have lunch here, in the garden.”

_‘And maybe, you can put those muscles in action in the pool while I watch.’_

“Of course, I knew that.” The grin ran away from his face, and he called out for his elf. “Crumpet!”

The vile creature appeared out nowhere, again bowing knee deep with one glassy eye glaring at Katie.

“Master called? Crumpet needs to throws out the hag?”

_‘Or throw yourself into a burning fire, you devil spawn.’_

“The lady is not a hag, Crumpet. After you have punished yourself for that, you can prepare lunch for us in the garden. Understood?” Marcus ordered. 

The elf bowed even deeper at the given task, still glaring at Katie with one eye, and then disappeared with a loud crack. 

“He doesn’t seem to like me much.” She tried to sound airy but failed at it.

“He rarely likes anyone, don’t take it personally. My mum used to joke that Crumpet once tried to smother her in her sleep.” Marcus laughed as if it was nothing. “But don’t worry, he’s just a bit strange, wouldn’t hurt a fly. He was my nursery elf, after all. And before that, he was my father's.”

“And what a fantastic job he's done.”

Marcus’ attempt at reassurance didn’t help at all. Something told Katie that Mrs Flint had been right about the deranged elf. She needed to stay away from it as far as possible.

 

It took Marcus a few minutes to get ready -neat black trousers and grey shirt- and lead her into the garden. As expected, it was warmer here than outside the gates. As they strolled in the sun, he explained that everything was enchanted to stay in the exact same way as it had been on the day his parents got married, a wedding gift from his father to his mother.

“It’s stunning out here. I can understand why your parents wanted to keep it like this forever,” Katie gushed. His hand on the small of her back felt comfortable, and she quietly wished for it to stay there forever.

On a table underneath one of the pergolas overgrown with Bougainville, a large assortment of sandwiches, salads, and tea awaited them. The sight alone made Katie’s stomach rumble in hunger. The only thing keeping her from running to it and stuffing her face was Marcus. 

"Hungry?" he asked.

"You have no idea." 

Chuckling, he took her hand and pulled her along. She had to admit that his manners were impeccable when he helped her in her chair before seating himself.

_‘Huh, would have thought.’_

She waited for him to take the first bite before she tried one of the sandwiches. When he didn’t fall over foaming at the mouth, she was sure enough that Crumpet hadn’t tampered with the food. Granted, she didn’t dare to drink from the buttermilk; he could have spit in it, and she wouldn’t have been any wiser to it.

Their talk over lunch was light, mainly focussed on Marcus’ Quidditch career and Katie’s chances at the upcoming try-outs. There was a flash of something across his face each time she mentioned it, but she let it slip for now. As long as he didn’t do anything to ruin it for her, she wasn’t bothered with what he was hiding. Maybe, he was excited on her behalf. That would be kind of him.

When the last of the food and tea had disappeared in her belly, Katie cleared her throat. She had taken Ally’s advice and waited until she was fed in case the day turned sour. But she couldn't hold it off much longer. There were a few things they needed to discuss. 

“Thank you for inviting me today. I never expected to receive such a lovely letter from you. It was really sweet.”

Marcus stopped licking the crumbs off his plate and looked up. “I’m glad you liked it. I meant, uhm, still mean, every word written in it.”

“Hmm, yes. But you didn’t write it yourself, did you?” She didn’t really care if he had written it himself or not, it was the thought that counted. She just wanted him to squirm a bit after that comment he'd made about them shagging in front of her schoolmates. Even thinking about that day was humiliating.

Her question had the desired effect. Marcus frowned at his plate and fidgeted with his napkin. “No,” he started slowly, “A, ah, a friend helped me out. I’m not that good with words.”

“I guessed so much. Who is this friend?” Katie had to admit that hadn't expected Marcus to have articulate friends. She imagined his friends to be like those Crobb and Gargoyle boys in Slytherin: dumb knobheads.

“Why?”

Katie shrugged. “No reason. I’m just curious who this charmer is. His words were dreamy.” It took all of her self-control not to laugh at his annoyed expression.

“He’s married,” he said slowly. “So, Higgs isn’t that dreamy anymore, is he?”

“Higgs as in Terence Higgs? I remember him. He was gorgeous back in school. Is he still?”

Katie swooned at the thought of the blond Slytherin Seeker. Back then, he'd been the most handsome boy at school. She recalled one incident in her first year where she ran into him on her way to Potions Class. His sweet smile at her apology had left her dazzled for days, easily the best memory ever.

“Married!” Marcus announced loudly and pointed at his ring finger. “The woman who nearly cursed you into pieces the last time you were here. That's right, his wife.”

“Pity,” she sighed. Seeing the dark look on Marcus' face, Katie hastily continued, “Why was she here, anyway? In your bedroom?”

“She’s mental; that’s why.”

“That doesn’t explain why she was in your bedroom,” Katie insisted. “Is there something going on between the two of you? She's a pretty woman.”

"And married to my best mate, Bell." Marcus shuddered at the idea. “Besides, pretty doesn't equal sane or desirable. Sophia has the tendency to go crazy at her husband at the drop of a hat and usually I’m caught in the middle. She stays here on those days to cool off. My room is the only room she has deemed worthy to stay in. Higgs knows. It’s not a secret or anything.”

Marcus studied her, looking for signs of disbelief. Sophia ruining his chances with Bell would be the topping on his cake. To his relief, there weren’t any.

Katie studied him back. It was quite adoring and flattering to see the big Quidditch Captain jealous. She had to admit that she wouldn’t have liked it if Marcus had gushed about another woman to her. But if this, whatever it was between them, was to work out something like what had happened with Cormac in Hogsmeade couldn’t happen again. Marcus beat her to addressing the subject.

“Look, Bell. I’m sorry for what happened that day, with your friend. It slipped out before I could help myself. And I really shouldn’t have sent you that diary without telling you what it was. I’m not going to promise that isn’t going to happen again, though. That’s me, I blurt out whatever comes up in my head and do stupid things without thinking them through. And to be honest, I don’t care if I offend someone. But, I can promise to minimise the damage when it concerns you. Will that be enough for you?”

“Enough for what?”

_‘C’mon, big oaf. Ask me properly.’_

“Ah, well, to be my girl,” Marcus stammered the words. Never in a million years, he had expected to say these words as a grown man. Hell, he hadn’t uttered them when he'd been a pimply teenager, either. That had been Higgs’ and Pucey’s area of expertise.

_‘Finally, was it really that difficult?’_

Katie beamed, not answering just yet. “Why? Look, if you’re asking because I ended up in your bed that night, don’t bother. You don’t-”

“Of course, it’s about that night,” Marcus cut her off, his impatience bubbling to the surface. “And not only because of the sex, which was great, by the way. I liked talking to you, Bell. You have a wicked sense of humour, you’re beautiful, and you didn't stay long enough to check how much I have in my vaults. I like what I've seen so far, and I want more of it.”

“What if I don’t?”

Marcus' face fell, and he turned his eyes to his hands, studying the fine hairs on his fingers. “You don’t? Oh, I thought… I’ll take you back to Hogwarts then.”

There was a tense silence between them. He didn’t look at her, no matter how hard Katie willed him to do. She just wanted to make sure that he wasn’t only after a casual shag now and then. Even though her actions that night spoke against it, she'd decided that wasn't for her.

Last week, in anticipation of this date, she had already come to the realisation that she liked him for he was; unapologetically himself and like him, she wanted to get to know him better. Hearing him say that he wanted the same made her stomach do flip-flops. Why beat around the bush and delay the inevitable? It would be much easier to agree to have him as her boyfriend now and see how it went from there.

_‘Do you call men his age a boyfriend? Isn’t there a more masculine expression? Lover, yes that sounds nice.’_

“I like you too, Marcus.” He scoffed at her, probably expecting a rejecting. “I’ll say yes on one condition.”

"What?" His head snapped up in hope. “Anything.”

“Call me Katie.”

_‘Now seal the deal with a kiss.’_

And that was what he did as soon as he got over his surprise. In his eagerness to get to Katie, Marcus nearly knocked over the table, sending a few plates and cups flying. When he finally reached her, he pulled her up from her chair, and he held her tightly pressed against his body.

Katie felt her heart hammer in her chest, and the tingling feeling in her belly intensified when she looked him the eyes. He smiled at her before he dipped his head and chastely kissed her just above her right eyebrow. That wouldn't do.

She put her hands on his cheeks and stood on her tiptoes, beckoning him until he dipped again kissed her softly on her lips, slowly, reverently, still surprised that this was happening. Her excitement slowly took over, and she pressed her mouth harder against his, feeling his big front teeth against hers. They stood there for a while, going back and forth. It felt brilliant and was what she wanted, in the right order of things.

When they broke apart, Katie felt dizzy and rested her head against his chest, sighing in satisfaction. It was the perfect date in her book, and nothing else could ruin it for her. Not even demented house-elves or shrieking banshees. Until Marcus had to open his big yap, that is.

“Hey, Bell, sorry… Katie?"

"Yes, _Marcus_?" She snuggled closer, playing with the buttons on his shirt.

"When, no, _why_ did you see Wood naked and who the hell is Roger Davies?”

_‘Oh fuck.’_  


	12. The scarring of Terence and Adrian

Terence floated on his air mattress in the pond, dozing in the sun. The Flint gardens were frozen in an eternal springtime state, allowing these kinds of leisurely activities when usually the weather wouldn’t permit it. He was sipping from his cold drink when a feminine giggle disturbed his peace. It was bad enough that his in-laws harassed him non-stop about Sophia’s whereabouts, effectively chasing him from his own house.

 

There was a reason why he preferred to stay at Flint Manor; not everyone was allowed to barge, Floo or Apparate with Sophia being a recent addition to that endless list. That someone had managed to circumvent that was an unacceptable disturbance of his peace and quiet time.

 

He shook his head, convinced that he had mistaken a tweeting bird for a girl’s laugh. Could happen to the best of them, he reckoned. After all, the past year had been difficult for him: the wedding, Sophia’s true colours coming out, and his father’s unreasonable demands for him to step up in the family business. As he closed his eyes, Terence tried to let all the stress go. The sun was warm on his skin, the silence calming.

 

He was nearly dozing off, when…

 

There was that sound again, much closer and louder than he would have liked. A giggle, no doubt about it. Did one of Flint’s groupies manage to ‘squeeze’ out an open invitation? It wouldn’t be the first time that the big oaf, as Terence liked to call his best friend, did something utterly stupid after a few drinks. Now that the idiot was on his first date ever, disposing of the unwanted guest was left up to him.

_‘Damn Flint and his hospitality.’_

 

“Crumpet!” Terence hoped the ancient elf would be able to send off whoever managed to get in. The usually eager elf didn't appear, not even after a few more calls. Sighing and cursing the elf, Terence steered his mattress towards the bank. Better to get rid of the uninvited visitor as soon as possible so he could return to doing absolutely nothing, as he preferred.

 

There were soft voices audible behind the thick bushes, and Terence was sure that he heard his name a few times. He froze for a minute. Had Sophia returned? That shouldn't be possible; she was somewhere high up in the Himalayas, snowed in at some ancient, magic limiting monastery.

 

“I like you too, Marcus.”

 

_‘What in Salazar's name was that?’_

 

Slowly, he inched closer to the sound behind the neatly trimmed bushes. Through the branches, he was able to see what was going on the other side. Yes, it was clearly Marcus and the Bell girl. Terence felt a bit offended at the sight of his friend. Instead of the dress robes he picked out for him, Marcus wore a plain shirt and trousers. Then again, Bell did not look all that great herself. Terence shuddered at the sight of the Muggle jeans that witches seemed to prefer these days. Trust the pillock and the bint to muck up his romantic plans for them.

 

Still, the day was clearly a success for Marcus as he was currently in a lip lock, almost eating up the girl as his large hands squeezed her bum as if it were dough. Nevertheless, Bell apparently liked what Marcus was doing. Judging by the way she was grinding against him and the death grip she had on his hair in a quest to pull his face closer, there was just no way that she wasn’t. The sight of the two was…something.

 

Shuddering, Terence tried to look away. But watching them was like watching Nagini at the London Magical Zoo devour a stag for lunch: horrifying, yet strangely fascinating at the same time.

 

When the two finally broke apart for some much-needed air, Terence let out a sigh of relief, sure that the couple on the other side of the bushes would pass out at some point. Or, rip off their clothes and shag each other senseless on the table.

 

Shaking his head in an attempt to get rid of that mental image, he returned to his air mattress. Knowing Flint, the house was off limits for the foreseeable future. He just hoped that Crumpet would be able to bring him food and drinks in the meanwhile.

 

He was nearly dozing off when something woke him up. Loud noises from where he knew Marcus and Bell were. As he had done a few minutes earlier, Terence made the track back to the bushes to spy on his friend. The voices grew louder, more agitated.

 

“Calm down? Calm down? How dare you ask something like that?” Bell screeched. She had one hand on her hip and the other stabbed Marcus in the chest. The way she stood there, reminded Terence of his mother of the times when she used to berate his father for drinking too much at lunch.

 

 _‘What did he do now?’_ Terence wondered. Something must have pissed the girl off. And by the looks of it, Marcus wasn't too far behind her. It looked promising, and he wished Adrian was here with crisps so they could place bets on who would win the fight.

 

“You can’t blame me, Bell. You were quite descriptive about both of them,” Marcus hissed and swatted at Bell’s hand. “It’s a legitimate question. You went on for pages on how good Wood looked with water dripping off of his naked body.”

 

“That fucking diary!” Bell threw her hands in the air in a groan of frustration. “Do you honestly think that I only found out about it when McGonagall confiscated it? I’m not that dim, you…you twat!”

 

Terence chuckled to himself, feeling a bit guiltily. It had been his idea to send the Bell the Riddle diary, after all. It had done wonders for him when he had been trying to win Sophia over. Thinking about it now, the nonsense she had written in it back then should have been a sign on the wall.

 

“So, it isn’t true, then? You just wrote that stuff to goad me?” Marcus sounded relieved. “Right, Be- Katie?”

 

“Well, that bit about Snape was just a, uhm, fantasy.” Katie turned an unhealthy shade of red and tucked her hand in her pockets, staring at her feet and mumbling something unintelligible.

 

Terence craned his neck to catch her warble. ‘Where are those Extendable Ears when you needed one? Wait a minute, Snape? The girl has fantasies about Snape?’

 

He pressed himself against the bushes, intrigued by the disconcerting confession. It was not an everyday occurrence that one heard someone admitting to fantasies about the dour Potions Master. Even Sophia’s gibberish looked innocent in comparison to this.

 

_‘No, Soph is still crazier.’_

 

“What about Wood and that Davies bloke?” Marcus prodded again, sounding hopeful, “Just another fantasy?”

 

“Uhm, no… I have kissed Roger and seen Oliver, uhm, naked.”

 

Terence gasped in behalf of his friend. Not about that Roger guy, you couldn’t expect a girl not to have at least stolen a kiss here and there. Marcus wasn’t a saint, either. But Wood starkers? When did that happen? Was it a coincidence that he also was a professional Quidditch player? And here they were, thinking the girl was an innocent soul. Instead, she turned out to be another fortune seeker.

 

“Oh.” Marcus scratched his head, not his best look in Ter’s opinion. “Things happen, I guess.”

 

Katie nodded in agreement. “It was nothing, just dares like that night at the Leaky when I came up to you.” Realising what she'd said, she clamped her hands in front of her mouth. A thick silence followed. Eventually, she tried to change the subject back to the original discussion,

 

“But, that’s not the point. That’s all in the past-”

 

_‘Nice try, little girl. A dare, eh?’_

 

Terence felt a bit sorry for his friend. Most of the chits who hung from his neck on night’s outs weren't exactly long term girlfriend material. For once, Marcus had believed that he got lucky when a nice girl like Bell paid him attention. Nothing but a childish dare as it turned out.

 

“What dare?” Marcus asked quietly, taking a step back. His brow furrowed as he tried to figure out what Katie was saying. “It was all a fucking dare?”

 

“Yes, it started-” Katie tried to explain, but he wouldn't let her finish. She looked lost, clearly wondering where their discussion had steered off course. Terence couldn’t find it in himself to feel sorry for her.

 

Eventually, he stepped away from the bushes, allowing his friend some privacy. He already felt a bit guilty for eavesdropping in the first place, but seeing the crestfallen look on Marcus’ face was too much to handle. His friend, whom he had known since their nursery days had never looked like that before. Then again, he had never been this enamoured by a girl before.

 

_‘Sodding Gryffs, always trouble with that lot.’_

 

The loud familiar crack of Apparition told Terence that Bell left the Manor. He waited a while before heading back to the house, to offer comfort and a lot of Firewhisky to his friend.

 

*****KM*****

 

The moans emitting from Marcus’ room didn’t bode well; he sounded in worse shape than expected. Terence stood by the bedroom door, listening intently and waiting for the right time to enter. He had gone out earlier and bought an expensive bottle of Firewhisky to cheer Marcus up. An Ogden’s rare vintage, to be exact.

 

‘Poor bloke, he must be heartbroken.’

 

“Is he still in there?” Adrian’s calm voice came from behind him, making Terence jump up.

 

“Dammit, you arse. Announce yourself the next time,” he hissed, “What took you so long?”

 

“I was, ah, tied up.” Adrian cleared his throat, not wanting to elaborate further. Instead, he repeated his earlier question, “Is he still in there?”

 

Terence regarded his friend for a minute through narrowed eyes before answering him. Not for the first time, he regretted not being a Legilimens. It would make his life so much easier.

 

“One of these days, Pucey, you’re going to tell me where you keep sneaking off to. But yes, he is still in there. I think he’s crying. Ready to go in?”

 

Adrian scrunched up his nose in distaste; a crying Marcus was not something he was looking forward to. Nor was he looking forward to spilling the beans on his weekend activities. But for now, if he had to choose, he'd choose Flint's blubbering.

 

“Not really, but I reckon I don’t have much of a choice, do I? You go in first, yeah? I’ll be right behind you.”

 

“Milksop,” Terence mumbled and slowly turned the door handle.

 

The room was dimly lit, aside from the crackling fire in the hearth and the few candles lit in the corner. The bed was empty, clearly rumpled, but empty, and clothes were scattered all around the room. To top it off, the heady smell of sex was undeniable.

 

“What the…” Adrian started, but the rest of the words got stuck in his throat. Because right in that moment, his eyes fell on the pasty white arse of his friend. That in itself was not startling; he had seen his friends naked more times than he cared to count. However, what made it unsettling this time around were the two legs wrapped around Marcus' waist as he rhythmically pushed someone up against the bathroom door. To see those legs belong to Katie Bell, the girl who had supposedly broken Marcus’ heart earlier that day, was rather unexpected.

 

“He… No… How?” Terence stuttered. Like Adrian, he too was at a loss for words. He had expected a crying and heartbroken Marcus and had his repertoire of choice names for Bell ready as consolation. He'd even thought about plans to get even with the girl. But, none of that mattered now that she was wrapped around his friend like a candy wrapper.

 

Katie chose that moment to detach her face from Marcus' shoulder, leaving clear bite mark where her mouth had been and looked straight at the two men in the doorway. Her eyes grew large, and when she finally found her voice again, she let out a high pitched screech.

 

Several things happened at the same time; the first thing was Marcus turning around, exchanging his pasty arse for Katie’s, then a deep growl a deep growl filled the air before both men were blasted out of the room and landed in the hallway on their arses. The door shut close with a loud bang in their faces, nearly unhinging it.

 

Both men blinked blankly for a few seconds, still trying to process what was happening when the door opened again and a very naked and still aroused Marcus Flint stepped out. He bent down and pried the bottle of Ogden’s from Terence's hands.

 

“I’ll take this. And next time, don’t forget to knock, you twats.” With that, Marcus left his friends and shut the door behind him again.

 

*****KM*****

 

“Are they gone?” Katie had buried herself underneath the covers on the bed, mortified by the fact that two of Marcus’ friends had seen her like that. The only reason they had Apparated to his bedroom in the first place was to escape the eavesdropping Higgs. He and the other bloke weren’t supposed to come in here and gawk at them while they were…busy.

 

Marcus just laughed as he hopped on the bed and tried to get rid of the covers. Katie wasn't having any of it. “They’re gone, love. Now, where were we?”

 

“Marcus!” she hissed, tightening her hold. Although, she liked the way he had called her ‘love’, she wouldn't give in just yet. “They saw me!”

 

“Twas nothing much.” Marcus shrugged and reached for his wand. “Just your bum.”

 

With a simple swish of his wand, the barrier between him and Katie disappeared. The sight of the naked girl in his bed was enough to lose any coherent thought.

 

“My bare arse is nothing much?”

 

“You know what I mean,” he answered absentmindedly. Katie’s breasts were calling out, making it difficult to stay focused. “You’re still in the process of making up it to me, princess. You’ve hurt my feelings with that dare and whatnot.”

 

“You already knew about that! You said that it was the first thing I blurted out when I walked up to you that night.”

 

“So? You still agreed to make it up to me.” Marcus shrugged and licked his lips. Where to start?

 

Katie was about to protest, but when his mouth latched on to a nipple, she forgot what she wanted to say. It just felt too good, and it only got better when his hand travelled lower, playing with that bundle of nerves between her legs. It didn't take long for her to forget all about Higgs and Pucey, and their staring eyes.

 

_‘So far for not having sex on the first date. Angie would be so proud of me.’_


	13. It happened here

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title is a reference to a titbit of information revealed in 'Millicent&Theo'.

 

“What’s the matter with you? Are you nervous for the try-outs?” Alicia asked in concern. She had rarely seen Katie this despondent. What was supposed to be a happy get together between friends was nothing more than sighs and sad looks.

 

Katie smiled sheepishly at her friends and instead of answering, took a sip from her pumpkin juice. She was nervous, true. How could she not be when her whole future depended on this week? Starting tomorrow, she would be trying out for two teams a day until Saturday. Unlike the most of the applicants, she didn't have a favourite team she wanted to be part of and had signed up for all available spots. Her dream was to play Quidditch; the team wasn’t of importance.

 

The trials were a big event in the wizarding world. Instead of separate try-outs on different times throughout the year, the League had decided years ago that all tryouts were to be held in the week after Easter Day. This way, Hogwarts students could participate without having to skip school so shortly before their N.E.W.T.’s. This year, after a last-minute change, the Tornadoes pitch and sites were chosen to host the event.

 

The try-outs weren’t only for aspiring players. The numerous reserve players also had to participate if they wanted to keep their spot for the next Quidditch season. And with Angelina and Alicia being two of those reserves, they were here this week to try their hardest to stay at least that.

 

Madam Hooch had chaperoned the twenty Hogwarts students to the Flighty Dragon earlier that day. The students weren't allowed to come near the campsite where all the older applicants stayed, to Katie’s disappointment. She had heard some many great stories and had wanted to experience it for once. However, the campsites had a bad reputation; the many fights, drunken debauchery, and other wickedness had been enough for the Hogwarts Board of Governors and the parents to set rules for the participating students.

 

Since years now, the choice of accommodations was an inn or hotel where the guiding professor could keep an eye on the students. This year it was the Flighty Dragon, a dingy inn near Tutshill. Madam Hooch held two hourly roll calls and room checks. Straying from the rules, alcoholic beverages, or a person of the opposite sex in your chamber usually meant a one-way Portkey back to Hogwarts.

 

If that wasn’t enough, Katie’s parents had decided that they would join their daughter for this week and had rented the room right next to hers. Apparently, her little stunt over Christmas was still fresh on their minds, and they thought it would be wise to keep an eye on her. Sometimes, Katie feared that her parents would never come to accept that she wasn’t a little girl anymore. Maybe, she ought to move in with Angie after finishing Hogwarts. It would allow her a little bit more room to breathe. Or, perhaps Marcus would-

 

She didn’t finish that train of thought.

 

Sighing, Katie put down her goblet and glanced to her right. Three tables over, her parents were sipping from their Butterbeers, trying hard not to be obvious in their attempts to keep an eye on their daughter and failing miserably at it. Her mother was craning her neck to hear what the girls were talking about, and her father kept an eye on every man in the room, making sure none of them came too close to the girls' table.

 

Merlin, she could go for a glass -or better yet, a bottle- of wine right about now. Unfortunately, the barman was under strict orders not to serve alcohol to the Hogwarts students. The mandatory jumper for the evenings with the too large Hogwarts crest on the back and front prevented any ‘mistakes’.

 

Angelina felt for her friend, remembering the strict rules from last year. Knowing Katie though, that couldn’t be the only thing bothering her since she lived to obey rules. At least, she used to.

 

When Katie let out another deep sigh, Angelina quickly cast a Muffliato Charm to allow her to speak freely. She just hoped that the older Bells wouldn’t catch on too soon and counteract the spell. She was dying to hear about the recent developments with Flint, and as long as Mrs Bell was about to fall from her chair to listen to every word out Katie’s mouth, that was not going to happen.

 

It had hurt her that Katie hadn’t written her about her date with the big oaf. Nevertheless, she could understand; her advice wasn’t always helpful, she was well aware of that. What did she know about dating a bloke, anyway? Her own love life was all shades of unconventional as it was. She had hoped on at least a detailed description of the big date. That had never come; even Alicia hadn’t known the details.

 

Katie had written them, of course. She had talked and talked about the weather, the broken bristles on her broom, and her anxiety for the upcoming try-outs in those letters. But she had never written a word about Flint, no matter how many owls they’d sent demanding for her to spill the beans. It was worrying, to be honest. They were talking about Flint here. Who knew what the troll had tried with her?

 

“Come on, Katie. What’s going on?” Angie asked. Seeing Katie glance at her parents again, she rushed to ease her friend’s mind, “They can’t hear us. For now. So, you better hurry up and tell what’s got your knickers in a twist. Is it Flint? Has he done something? I knew it, once prick always a prick.”

 

“No, no, it’s nothing like that.” Katie rubbed her eyes, her head spinning with Angie's questions and conclusion. “It’s just… I’m just nervous, s'all.”

 

Angelina and Alicia shared a look, not believing a word their friend just said. It was plausible, of course; they were also nervous, their careers depended on their performance. Still, they didn’t walk around like the Inferi because of it. There must be something else bothering their Katie.

 

“How was your date with Flint? You never told us,” Alicia asked as a distraction from the week that awaited them. Seeing Katie slump her shoulders at her question, she felt sorry for her friend. “That bad, huh?”

 

Katie shook her head, trying to form her words in her mind first. The day itself had been great, even after his friends’ interruption later on, which had been embarrassing, to say the least. Nevertheless, after they'd said their goodbyes after he took her back to Hogwarts at the end of the day, doubt had crept in. For weeks now, she'd avoided his requests to meet again. Not the ideal start for their relationship, if there was one left to speak about. She had probably mucked that up now. Worst of all, he was bound to be here this week, avoiding him would be nearly impossible.

 

“It’s just…” She shrugged, not sure how to explain.

 

“Just what?” Alicia pressed, already going over several plans to hurt Flint. The twins would know what to do. “Did he do or say something stupid again?”

 

“No,” Katie shook her head, “I did.”

 

“You? How?” Alicia was curious now, Katie rarely, if never, admitted to doing something wrong. It was always someone else’s fault. How bad could it be?

 

Katie glanced at her parents; they were still sipping their drinks and talking to each other as they tried hard not to be too obvious about watching her.

 

“Fuck!” she called out of the top of her lungs, earning her chuckles from her friends.

 

Her parents didn’t react, though. Finally assured that they couldn’t hear her, she took a deep breath and started telling her friends about that day in hushed whispers. She didn’t want to take the chance of the spell wearing off mid-story and her parents listening in on the most embarrassing parts.

 

Katie told her friends everything; starting from the moment Marcus had picked her up at Hogwarts, the silly argument about the diary leading up to the dare, how Higgs and Pucey got an eyeful of her arse, up to the moment he had taken her back to school. By the time she finished her story, her friends were staring at her in confusion.

 

“Well, say something.”

 

“And you are avoiding him now, because?” Angelina asked tentatively, not following why Katie would keep her distance from the pillock. From what she had described, it seemed like the ideal date to her: drinks, food, and sex. She'd even flashed her arse, what was the problem?

 

“Isn’t it clear?” Katie asked in exasperation.

 

“No, not really,” Alicia answered. Like Angelina, she didn’t understand what it was what was bothering her friend. “Maybe, you should spell it out for us?”

 

“We shagged,” Katie whispered, her cheeks reddening. As soon as the confession left her lips, she glanced over to her parents again. Luckily, they were talking to Madam Hooch and not paying attention to her for once.

 

“So?” Angelina rolled her eyes, “It wasn’t the first time, remember? Oh, wait I understand. Aw, poor girl.”

 

“You do?” Alicia asked in astonishment. It would be a rarity for Angelina to understand something before she did.

 

“Yes. It makes sense. She was sober this time,” Angelina said, nodding knowingly. “He must have been disappointing the second time around.”

 

“What? No, it’s no-” Katie tried to refute, but Alicia cut her off.

 

“Oh, I get it.” She grabbed Katie’s hand, a look of sympathy on her face, “He didn’t please you, did he? What was it? Too small? Too big? Couldn’t get it up? Did he only think of himself? Tell us, love, we can help you with this.”

 

“Gods, you cows! It was nothing like that.”

 

“As long as you don’t tell us, it’s a guessing game,” Angelina retorted and took a big gulp from her pumpkin juice spiked with Firewhisky. She and Alicia had agreed on solidarity with Katie’s forced sobriety and not drink in her presence, at least, not to be too blatant about it. Thank Merlin, she'd thought about bringing along her flask, her eighteenth birthday gift the girls had given her.

 

Katie just shook her head and studied her goblet. Leave it to her friends not to understand. “It wasn’t supposed to happen. It was just the first date. You eat, talk, and laugh on your first date, not bang.”

 

“Oh Katie, that broom flew off last Christmas, don't you think? He is your, uhm, boyfriend now.” Angelina couldn’t help but shudder as she said it aloud. She planned on giving Alicia an earful later on about her encouraging Katie to meet the prat again. “It’s to be expected. That’s what couples do. I mean, you are in some sort relationship, aren’t you?”

 

“Yes, but that’s not an excuse. You shouldn’t do that on the first date,” Katie replied miserably, “He’s going to think that’s all I’m good for, or that’s all I want. We were supposed to get to know each other better before doing that again.”

 

“Why did you give in then? He didn’t force you, did he?” Seeing Katie shake her head in reply, Alicia asked further, “Why then, if you didn’t want to?”

 

Katie took a big gulp from her juice before answering, “We were arguing about the diary he had sent me and that stupid dare, yeah? Then suddenly- I don’t know. That body, his smell- I jumped him before I could help myself.”

 

“You jumped him?” Angelina’s eyebrows nearly disappeared into her hairline. She felt strangely proud of Katie’s boldness. “You? Jumped him?”

 

Katie nodded, ready to cry. “I’m sure he now only wants to see me for one thing. Worse, he’s going to think that’s all I want. I’ve become one of those girls who fall into bed with the first bloke they meet. No offence, Ang.”

 

Angelina rolled her eyes; it wasn't anything she hadn't heard before. Just as when she wanted to reply, Katie's father came their way. She quickly countered the Muffliato before he noticed something off and greeted him, smiling sweetly. “Hi, Mister Bell.”

 

“Angelina, Alicia, good evening.” Howard Bell nodded curtly at the girls. He still hadn’t warmed up to them, convinced that they were a bad influence on his only child. “I think it’s time for our girl to go to bed. It’s going to be an early day tomorrow.”

 

“Daddy, we are in the middle of something. Can I stay just a little bit longer?” Katie tried to persuade her father, batting her lashes. He didn’t budge, though. He cocked his brows and folded his arms, and Katie knew not to argue further. “Yes, sir.”

 

Bidding their goodnights and promises to talk the next day, Katie followed her parents to their rooms. Madam Hooch was already doing her rounds and after a thorough second check of her room by her and her parents, Katie was left alone for the night. It didn’t take her long to get ready for bed and fall into a restless sleep.

 

*****KM*****

 

She wasn’t sure how he'd done it without her noticing, but when she woke up in the middle of the night by a loud snore and feeling incredibly warm, she was glad he had. Marcus lay next to her in a deep sleep. He had pulled her against him and curled his arm around her waist. Being near him again made all the doubt she had felt the past few weeks melt away. Sighing contently, she wriggled against him to get more comfortable and promptly fell back asleep.

 

Hours later, Katie woke up to the rhythmic, soft caress of her bum over her pyjama bottoms. It took her a few seconds to realise where she was and with who.

 

“Good morning,” she mumbled in his chest, afraid he might notice her foul morning breath.

 

“Good morning.” He kissed the top of her head and slipped his hand under the waistband of her pyjama. “I’ve missed you.”

 

She hummed in reply, trying to smell her breath in the palm of her hand. When she was sure that Marcus wouldn't drop dead, she snuggled closer to place a kiss on his chest. “How did you get in here?”

 

“The team owns the inn. All the players are keyed into the wards for emergencies,” Marcus mumbled as he squeezed her bum. “Or, for when certain girlfriends, who try their hardest to avoid their boyfriends, stay here. You know, we can Apparate into their rooms and ask them what is going on.”

 

Katie gulped, so he had noticed. “Marcus…”

 

“Yes, Katie?”

 

“I was busy with school,” she answered lamely.

 

“Where you? So, you weren’t avoiding me?” He trailed kisses down her throat as tugged her bottoms down and kicked it off with his foot. He caressed her bare thigh a few times before he lifted her leg over his hip.

 

“Maybe a bit.” Katie closed her eyes in anticipation as Marcus’ hand slipped under her top and pushed it up. His other hand was busy gently stroking her between her legs.

 

“Why?” he asked before he started kissing her chest. He softly bit her nipple, enticing a moan out her.

 

Katie didn’t answer immediately and just enjoyed what Marcus was doing. His fingers were stroking her inner thigh, barely touching her where she wanted him the most. “I can’t drop my knickers each time I see you.”

 

And ironically, it was what she was doing now. Regaining her senses somewhat, she half-heartedly tried to push his hand off. “We really shouldn’t.”

 

“No one is asking you to drop them. I've already done that for you.” Marcus kissed her collarbone. “I can stop if you like.”

 

“No!” Katie exclaimed much too loud and clamped her hand over her mouth in fear of having woken her parents. For a minute, both stilled to listen for movements on the other side of the wall. When they were sure that the older Bells hadn’t heard her, Marcus continued his ministrations.

 

“So, it’s a ‘no’ to stopping, then? Or, is it a ‘no’ in the ‘don’t touch me’ way?” Marcus gently bit the soft skin on her throat.

 

“Don’t stop.”

 

“Hmm, you'll stop avoiding me from now on then?”

 

Katie kissed him in answer, not wanting to bother with words. She felt him harden between her legs and involuntarily thrust her hips forward to feel him better. “We still need to get to know each other better.”

 

“You feel good, Katie,” he mumbled, and his hand slipped between their bodies again, stroking, preparing her as he had last time before he found his way inside her.

 

Katie moaned in response and let the feelings wash over her. The rhythmic movement of his fingers, teasing her, was too much to handle. A smouldering fire slowly built in her lower belly and she hoped he wouldn’t prolong the torture much longer. Her hand moved to cover his in a shy attempt to urge him to go faster. The other found his cock, the velvety skin soft to touch. Not sure about what she was supposed to do, she began stroking it in the same rhythm as his fingers on and inside her.

 

“Fuck,” Marcus growled and rolled them both over so Katie was on her back and he was on top of her. He got hold of her both hands and pushed them over her head. His was nudging her, coating himself in her wetness. “I can’t wait any longer to get to know you better.”

 

“Then don’t.” As soon as the words left Katie’s lips, Marcus buried himself to the hilt inside of her. She still needed to get used to the feel of him as well as the feeling of being stretched and filled. It wasn’t painful or uncomfortable, just different. Thankfully, he stilled a minute to give her time to adjust, kissing her softly. She closed her eyes and pressed her head further into the pillow as she wrapped her arms tightly around him.

 

“I’ve missed you, too.”

 

Marcus grunted in reply and buried his head between her breasts, kissing, and licking her skin. When Katie was comfortable enough for him to move, she wriggled a bit, urging him to get a move on and do his magic.

 

His hand shot down to her hip to stop her, “Don’t move.”

 

“Why not?” She wriggled a bit more in protest, disappointed that he wasn’t doing what he was supposed to; make her feel good.

 

“You don’t let a bloke wait for six weeks,” Marcus worked his way up to her lips, kissing her deeply to the point both were left breathless by the time he released her mouth. “If you keep moving, it’s gonna be over before we even get started.”

 

“Oh, of course.” Katie nodded in apparent understanding, even though she couldn’t figure out what one had to with the other. Trying not to overthink it, she raked her nails over his back, having him hiss in pleasure and slightly thrust forward. It felt good to know that she was able to get such a reaction out of him. Feeling more confident, she pushed her breasts against his chest and wrapped a leg over his hips. His skin felt hot, and she guessed that hers was as equally feverish. She started kissing him again and pressed dug her heels into his arse, forcing his hips deeper into her body.

 

“No, don't... Ah, sod it,” Marcus growled and started rocking in and out her.

 

Slowly at first, increasing the pace as Katie began to meet his thrusts more and more, to his pleasure. His thrusts became harder, faster, and demanding and she was struggling to keep up. Their coupling was a blur of feeling hands, kissing lips and rocking hips. The way Katie had wrapped his legs around him, squeezing and pulling him closer, moaning in his ear drawing him in further, made it difficult to hold it off any longer. A throaty moan escaped his lips as his body went rigid.

 

They lay there for a while, panting and softly kissing with Marcus still in between her legs. It wasn’t until Katie shivered from the cold that Marcus broke their connection and pulled up the covers.

 

“I owe you one,” he mumbled apologetically.

 

Katie, at first not understanding what he meant, laughed as the Knut dropped and kissed him in response. She snuggled in his arms, not caring to clean herself up. As she played with the fine hairs on his chest, she found the courage to voice her worries.

 

“I've been avoiding you, you know.”

 

Marcus scoffed and swatted her hands off his chest when she accidentally pulled at the hairs. “I’d reckoned so much. I don’t understand why, though.”

 

“I thought you only wanted sex from me,” Katie mumbled, doubt creeping in again. It would be awkward if he confirmed her fears. She could hardly leave if that were the case.

 

“You’re mental, Bell- Katie. I love shagging you, no denying that. We should do that more often.” Marcus kissed her hair. “But, I said it before; I do like you, you crazy bint.”

 

“But, we end up like this each time we see each other. I don’t usually do that. We should get to know each other better and-”

 

Marcus lifted her face up so she was looking at him. “Don’t overthink it. We have all the time in the world to know each other better. Once you finish school, it'll be easier. And if it helps, I won’t touch you again until you say I can.”

 

That last part he added as a joke; he wasn’t sure how he'd keep himself from jumping her each time she was near.

 

He'd watched her for hours in the pub earlier, waiting for the convenient time to surprise her. However, with her parents hovering over her and Madam Hooch patrolling around like a hawk, it had been impossible to come near. Then there was her father; Mr Bell, nearly as tall and broad as Marcus was, looked like the one who would hex first and ask questions later. Katie had told him about how her strict parents were the last time, and he didn’t want to tickle that sleeping dragon if there wasn't need for it. At least, not until he was sure that Katie hadn’t changed her mind about being with him.

 

“Yeah, we can try that,” Katie replied to Marcus’ suggestion, not convinced that would work. The only thing she could think about when he was this near was to rip his clothes off and order him to make her feel good. Only time would tell, she reckoned and decided not to worry about it for now.

 

It didn’t take long for sleep to claim the young lovers, entangled in each other. When a few hours later Howard Bell knocked on the door to wake Katie, Marcus was long gone. A short note on her pillow warning her to expect him again that night was the only evidence he had been there at all.


	14. Daddy dearest

Howard Bell loved his daughter very much. She was the apple of his and his wife’s eye, and the mere idea of her growing up one day and leaving them behind saddened him more than it should.

 

You see, Katie had been a surprise late in their lives. He and his wife had already given up hope on having a child of their own after years of trying, and often losing when she came along. So, when most of their friends and acquaintances had sent their children off to Hogwarts for their final years of schooling, they had been elbow deep in dirty nappies, colic, and sleepless nights. Nevertheless, they wouldn’t have had it any other way. It was out love for their daughter that the couple stood at her door on Sunday morning for a last breakfast together before she headed back to school. After today, it would be more than two months before they'd see her again and they wanted to make the best of it.

 

Carol and Howard knew that they were strict with their Katie, but the fear of losing their precious gift was hard to let go. They knew she was growing up and becoming a woman and needed to be treated as one, no matter how hard Howard wished to keep her in pigtails and frilly princess dresses. Those days were long gone, of course, and replaced by tight Muggle clothing and giggling about boys with her girlfriends. Still, to him, she would always be his little girl who'd refused to go on the Hogwarts Express and had begged her parents to take her home.

 

They also knew that once Katie finished her school, she would spread her wings and leave her childhood home, and subsequently them, behind. The day would come that she’d find someone to settle down with, marry one day, and hopefully, have children of her own. Howard also knew that a part of growing up meant that she would have to make mistakes to learn. However, the idea of her making an irreversible one and ruin her life in the process was something that kept the couple awake at nights.

 

They had truly believed that had happened when she didn't come home after a girls’ night out last Christmas. Howard and Carol had expected the worst; from Katie lying hurt in the gutter somewhere to her finally rebelling against them. In the end, she had in a way. He still refused to acknowledge what the lovebites on her skin and the torn underwear that had fallen out her pocket meant. At the same time, he wanted to hex the nameless sod into oblivion for touching his little girl.

 

Howard took a deep breath and shook his head in a futile attempt to purge the memory of that morning from his mind. They still needed to discuss the matter with Katie and punish her accordingly. However, today wasn’t the day. For the next hour or so, they would be celebrating her successes and conclude a successful week.

 

“You think she’s up already?” he asked softly.

 

He was holding a filled breakfast tray with food Katie loved. Having breakfast in bed had always had been a tradition on the morning she was due to go back to school, and they didn't plan on diverting from that again as they had last Christmas holiday.

 

“I should think so,” Carol replied impatiently. If it had been up to her, they would have had breakfast hours ago. “I heard her rummage earlier. She must have started packing her bags already. The beds are rubbish here. It wouldn't surprise me if she had trouble sleeping.”

 

Howard nodded in agreement, the rooms were noisy, and each time Katie had turned around in her bed, they had been able to hear it. Come to think of it; she had done that quite a lot during the nights here. Her bed must have been horribly uncomfortable. He had even heard her snore a few times, something he had never known Katie to do before.

 

“Should I knock or do we surprise her?” Carol asked. Her hand was already on the door handle in her eagerness to spend time with her daughter.

 

“Knock!” Howard rushed to answer. He didn’t think that Katie would appreciate if they’d barge in unannounced. His mother had done that to him once, and it was safe to say that it had been traumatising on both ends. “Just in case she’s washing up or changing.”

 

Carol was about to knock when a giggle from the other side of the door made her hand stop mid-air. She cocked her head.

 

“Did you hear that?” Seeing her husband nod in confirmation, she asked, “You reckon she has the girls over already?” The disappointment laced her voice since she had hoped to have the morning alone with Katie and her husband.

 

Another fit of giggles stopped Howard from answering. If it hadn’t been for that, he would have replied that Angelina and Alicia had already gone home the day before and that Katie was probably laughing to herself. But it wasn't the giggles he heard that had stopped Howard. No, it was the male laughter, albeit muffled, mixed with his daughter’s. Judging by the look on Carol’s face, she had heard it as well.

 

“Hold this.” Howard pushed the tray in his wife’s hands and turned to open the door to Katie’s room as stealthily as he could.

 

It was locked. Not one to give up easily, he tried to unlock the door with an Alohamora. As one would expect from a somewhat respectable inn, the simple unlocking spell didn't work. It wasn’t until he heard a moan -clearly Katie- that Howard completely lost it. He pointed his wand at the door, all his earlier thoughts on treating her as an adult forgotten.

 

“Reducto!” he shouted without hesitation and barged into the room.

 

*****KM*****

 

**_Earlier in Katie’s room_ **

 

Katie woke up with a start from an awful nightmare. She'd dreamt that none of the clubs had wanted her and even had banned her from playing Quidditch ever again. As her breath evened out and the realisation set in that it had been nothing but an awful dream, she curled up against Marcus and tried to sleep again. It didn't come easily, though. In fact, she was wide-awake despite the tiredness she felt.

 

The week had been draining on her. Trying out for nearly all the teams in the League had been a too ambitious idea and by the end of the week, she had started making mistakes. The worst one was yesterday's Tornadoes try-out. She'd kicked the teeth out Marcus’ mouth.

 

It had been a stupid accident; he was blocking her and in response, she had pulled up her broom too fast and too high, kneeing his face in the process. It wasn’t until he'd spat out his two front teeth that she discovered how hard she'd kicked him. Surprisingly enough, the loss hadn’t deterred him. In fact, he’d kept on grinning at her, exposing the bloody gap in his mouth, and reassuring that she wasn’t the first to kick his teeth out.

 

Katie ran her finger lightly along Marcus’ unshaved jaw. The Healers had fixed his teeth, even straightened them out a bit. However, his lips were still swollen, and there was a small bruise on his chin. She felt guilty, even if he had laughed it off.

 

“Stop it,” Marcus mumbled sleepily and grabbed her hand. “Sleep. Tired.”

 

“I’m trying,” Katie whispered back, “But your snoring keeps me awake.”

 

He did snore; so loud that he put dragons to shame. She hoped that the Silencing Charms they had set up together worked properly. The last thing she needed was to find a logical explanation for the foghorn-like noises from her room.

 

“I don't snore.” Marcus huffed and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Sleep now.”

 

Katie smiled. If there was one thing she had learnt the past week, was that Marcus was not a morning person. It usually took an hour or so for him to wake up, which was a luxury they didn’t have this morning. “I can’t sleep. I had a nightmare.”

 

There was a brief silence before Marcus sighed and cracked open an eye. “You want to talk about it, don’t you?”

 

“Yeah,” Katie started and without waiting for a further response, she began retelling her dream.

 

“What if none of the teams want me?” she asked in conclusion. “I was terrible the last two days. What am I going to do then? I’m pants at anything else and working a Ministry job like my parents will drive me insane. I know it will. I’ll probably stab someone with a letter opener and set fire to the building.”

 

It took Marcus a few minutes to respond. He still had his eyes closed and for a moment, Katie wondered if he had fallen back asleep. She wouldn’t put it past him. That was another thing she had learnt; Marcus tended to doze off mid-conversation when he was tired, or the subject was too boring for his liking. She was just about to poke his side when he finally spoke up.

 

“Don’t worry,” he yawned, “You were quite impressive, I bet the team managers will fall over each other to sign you on.”

 

“You have to say that. Be serious, what if they don’t?”

 

“I don’t have to say anything. If you were rubbish at, I would have told you so.”

 

Marcus sighed, realising that he wasn’t going back to sleep anytime soon. Not when she was looking at him with those big brown eyes, the worry visible in them. He remembered the anxiety and stress all too well from the first and only time he had participated in the try-outs.

 

“If they don’t select you, you’ll find a job and try again next year. Don’t fret; it will all work out, eventually.”

 

“Promise?” Katie asked in a small voice as she drew patterns on his chest. She knew of course that he couldn’t make miracles happen, but for now, she needed him to lie to her.

 

“Yeah,” Marcus replied, “Can we sleep now? I’m knackered, and it’s barely light outside.”

 

“Prick, you had to ruin a tender moment.” Katie wriggled herself free from arms and rolled out bed. “It’s already eight, by the way. I’m gonna shower. Mum and Dad expect me for breakfast at ten. You should get out as well.”

 

“To join you?” Marcus asked hopefully and threw the blankets off. The necessity of sleep was long forgotten. He was awake now, all of him, at the idea of having her naked as water cascaded down her body. True to her word and his utter frustration, Katie had refused to do anything more than kissing the whole week.

 

Having her sleep next to him every night without seeing as much as her bare stomach, was slowly driving him crazy. He understood her need to get to know each other better and all that rubbish she had gibbered about but still, he was a young and healthy man with needs. Vey strong needs. What she was doing to him was nothing but pure torture on her part.

 

“I’ll wash your back for you,” he offered, putting on his best puppy-dog face.

 

Katie narrowed her eyes in mock irritation. “I know what you want, Flint,” she started harshly and swallowed a chuckle when his face fell. “As it is, I’m in a giving mood this morning, and I will allow you to wash my back.”

 

Marcus didn't need to be told twice, and before she could blink twice, he had already tossed her over his shoulder and well on his way to the bathroom. Clothes came off at a record speed and within minutes, the couple stood under the hot spray, kissing and touching.

 

In between the much-needed gasps for breath, Marcus asked as innocently as he could muster, “How much in a giving mood are you?”

 

*****KM*****

 

It was nearly an hour later when they finally got out the shower. Katie was still red in the face, still in disbelief about what she'd done and had allowed Marcus to do to her. As she dried off and dressed in silence, she couldn't stop analysing their actions and concluded that she was a bit sceptical about the giving part. She wasn't good at it, at all. Marcus' wincing and yelping each time her teeth had scraped over his skin were a good indicator for that. But the receiving part was just…wow, and she decided right then and there that they ought to do that more often, she decided.

 

She was still thinking about how she could get him to do that again when Marcus asked her something. “Sorry, what did you say?”

 

“What time do you need to meet your parents again?” Marcus chuckled; he didn’t need to guess what she was thinking about. He wouldn't have minded a second round, but they had other things to sort out first.

 

He hated that the week was over. He had grown accustomed to seeing her every day, sleeping and waking up next to her. The best they would be able to manage for the next few months were the odd meeting here and there. What if she changed her mind again? Or, what if one of the boys at school managed to snag her from him?

 

“I told them that I would be down just before ten. Why?” Katie watched him from the mirror as she combed her hair. He looked like she felt: sullen and sad that the week was over. She was going to miss him, even if he did steal all the blankets at night.

 

“Sit with me until then.” Marcus, still in his underpants, scooted against the headboard and patted the space between his legs. “Come.”

 

“We don’t have time for that, you arse.”

 

“You don’t know what I can do in a short span of time.” Marcus wagged his brows. It wasn’t a joke, though. She’d find out one day. “Just sit and chat with me, you bint.”

 

“You're such a charmer.” She shook her head with a smile and continued combing her hair.

 

“And you know it. Come.”

 

"In a sec." She finished plaiting her hair before she joined him on the bed, cosy between his legs. He kissed her neck softly and ran his hands over her sides, making her giggle. “Stop, it.”

 

“Why?” Marcus laughed and pressed another kiss to her neck and his hands slipped under her jumper. Her skin was soft and warm to touch as he traced his fingers over her stomach, enticing another giggle from her. He had wanted to have a talk with her, but having her pressed against his body made him forget what it was he wanted to say.

 

“This isn’t chatting,” Katie protested feebly and threw her head back against his chest.

 

“Shut it, let a bloke enjoy himself for a minute,” Marcus replied and continued his stroking and slipped his hand under her hiked up skirt. His fingers ghosted over the cotton of her knickers, wanting to touch even though he knew better. The moan she let out when he briefly pressed his palm against the fabric was like music to his ears and had him rock-hard in an instant.

 

Katie was breathing heavily now; her fingers pressed into his thighs in excitement. He was about to slip his finger under the elastic when a loud blast interrupted the preamble to their second romp of the day, covering them with the pieces of what once was a door.

 

“Get your hands off her!”


	15. It really hurts

“So, care to tell us how this happened?” Terence tried to keep his face straight, but it was difficult. Seeing the mighty Marcus Flint, lying in a hospital bed after a run in with a fist was just too hilarious.

 

Marcus grumbled something unintelligible and closed his eyes as he sunk further into his pillow, every inch of his body hurt like mad. His nose was broken and healed, his upper lip split, and he had several bruised ribs. The Healers had given him a few soothing potions, fixed his broken teeth -what was it with the Bells and his teeth?- and told him that the rest of his injuries needed to heal naturally. On top of that, the Tornadoes' club managers had given him a good scolding for his ‘foolishness’ and ‘sullying’ the team’s good name before they hurried off to do some damage control with the press. However, the worst of all were his friends laughing at him in his face.

 

“Yeah, it isn’t an everyday occurrence that we need to free our friend from the MLE’s holding cells, rush him to the hospital, and then keep the reporters at bay,” Adrian deadpanned, shaking his head in disappointment.

 

It had been a long day, and he was feeling the effects. While Terence had busied himself with getting Marcus fixed up as good as possible, he had done the bulk of the work. From contacting the Tornadoes' management to smoothing over things with the MLE, and deflecting the nosey journalists who weren’t satisfied with the club’s and the Department of Magical Games and Sports’ statements, he'd tried hard to control the damage. The least he deserved was an explanation.

 

“Out with it Flint. You owe us.”

 

“Mister Bell,” was all that Marcus said without opening his eyes. He wanted to sleep for hours on end.

 

“We gathered that much,” Terence replied and chuckled at the memory of what they had encountered at the MLE’s office.

 

“It wasn’t the wisest idea to put the both of you in the same cellblock, was it? He sure does have a mouth on him; he taught me a thing or two. So, what set the old man off? You’d better tell us before the newspapers come out with the craziest stories. We need to know what to deny and what to hide, mate.”

 

Not that Terence cared about that, he just wanted to hear the dirty details for his enjoyment.

 

Marcus groaned at the thought of the press. Of course, those vultures would want to know everything about his misfortune. He just hoped that the club and Adrian managed to keep Katie’s name a secret. In hindsight, it hadn’t been the smartest decision to spent the nights in her room or linger longer than necessary. Especially, with her parents staying in the room next door and Rita Skeeter in the other.

 

“Katie’s parents,” he started and took a sip from the water next to his bed to soothe his parched throat. “Her parents walked in.”

 

“Just walked in?” Terence asked, “I heard something else. It was supposedly quite spectacular. With added explosions and all.”

 

“If you’d let me finish,” Marcus snapped, “Her father blew up the door because it was locked and he heard some, uh, sounds. We were right in the middle of something, and he didn’t take that all too well.”

 

“He caught you off guard and nearly killed you with his bare fists, Flint. Didn’t take too well, is rather an understatement,” Adrian retorted tiredly. “You’re lucky that Missus Bell took away his wand in time. We could have been arranging your funeral if she hadn’t.”

 

“That’s not my fault. Katie said something about her father doing some Muggle sport in his spare time. Bloxing or something. How was I supposed to know that it involved punching someone in the guts?”

 

If Marcus hadn’t been on the receiving end, he would have admired Mr Bell’s efficient blows to his kidneys. The man was quite excellent with his fists. He would need to talk to Katie about leaving out that titbit of information.

 

“Never mind that,” Terence interrupted. He leant forward and grinned slyly. “Whatever were you doing, other than being in a schoolgirl’s room that could have set off the old man like that? What were you in the middle of?”

 

“Sod off,” Marcus barked and folded his arms in defiance, the movement a painful reminder of what Mr Bell capabilities. Sometimes he wondered why he was even friends with the two tossers. All they did was make fun of him or rile him up; they never paid heed to his plight. He was hurting badly here, and they only cared about what did or did not happen this morning. A bag of Bertie Bott' Every Flavour Beans would have been appropriate, not this insistent questioning.

 

“Oh come on, don’t be like that,” Terence whined in mock. Seeing the look on his friend’s face, he burst out into another fit of laughter. Marcus was just too easy. “So? Were you naked? Was she?”

 

“Leave him alone, Ter,” Adrian intervened when he saw Marcus reach for his wand, “We don’t ask you what you do with your wife, do we?”

 

Before Terence could snap back about the inappropriateness of such a question -mainly since Sophia had decided to clamp up like an oyster since their wedding- someone cleared their throats. All three men turned their heads in the direction of the door.

 

To their surprise, a very sour looking woman, Mrs Bell as Marcus recognised, and a bashful looking Katie stood in the opening. The older woman gave a curt nod in greeting and whispered something in her daughter’s ear, making Katie glare at her and whisper something back harshly. Mrs Bell straightened herself in response, glaring at her daughter.

 

“I’ll be back in fifteen minutes,” she loudly stated before she stalked away.

 

As soon as her mother was out of sight, Katie rushed to Marcus’ bedside without greeting or glancing in the direction of the other two men in the room.

 

“Are you alright?” she asked in worry and took hold of his hand. “Are they taking good care of you? Oh, Gods, you look terrible.”

 

She was a sight for his sore eyes, and Marcus had to suppress a grin at her presence. He could have assured her, but he didn’t.

 

“It hurts,” he managed to croak out, exaggerating a bit. He liked to be fussed over and who better to do that than his girl?

 

“I’m so sorry.” Katie was near to tears as she placed a small kiss on the back of his hand and wiped a lock of hair from his forehead. The large lump hidden underneath made her gasp; it looked rather painful.

 

“Don’t they have something for the bruises and pain? They can’t just let you suffer like this.”

 

The soft sniggers from the back of the room ruined the dramatic moment for Marcus. Katie dropped his hand like a hot cauldron and turned a very unhealthy shade of red when she remembered that they weren’t alone in the room. She was clearly not comfortable with the two idiots grinning at her. With a barely visible jerk of his head and narrowed eyes, Marcus silently ordered the two to leave. Of course, Terence ignored him.

 

“Good to see you again, darling.” He grinned wolfishly at the girl as she mumbled something in reply. “It’s been a while. Wasn’t the last time we saw each other at the manor? That was quite an introduction, wasn't it.”

 

He knew it was mean, but he couldn’t pass up on the chance to get the little Gryffindor flustered. He expected Adrian to join in on the fun, but the traitor kept his mouth shut and stared at the floor, chewing on his cheeks in an attempt not to laugh.

 

“Get out,” Marcus hissed in annoyance. By the looks of it, Katie was ready to bolt out, and he couldn't have that. He wanted to have the talk with her they were supposed to have had that morning before her mum came back. The talk they were meant to have before he got distracted and everything went to shit. Now he had less than quarter of an hour, and these idiots were ruining it for him.

 

“Why? What did I say?” Terence tried to be the epitome of innocence, and not fooling anyone.

 

Adrian, sensing Marcus’ need to be alone with his girl and urge to curse their friend on the spot, stood up with a sigh and dragged Terence up with him. Why did he always have to be the adult?

 

“We’re leaving now. It was good to see you, Katie.” He nodded at the couple and kicked Terence in the shin when he was about to open his gob again. “I’ll be back in the morning to take you home.”

 

As soon as they were alone, Katie let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding. She still hadn’t forgotten that disastrous afternoon at Marcus’ house and his friends hadn’t either apparently. However, this wasn’t the time to worry about that. She needed to focus on Marcus; he looked like shit.

 

“Gods, I thought they’d never leave,” Marcus let out in relief. “They have a way of getting on your nerves.”

 

“I’ve noticed,” Katie muttered, still flushed by Higgs' remark. Would she ever be able to face them without turning beet red? She decided that she’d think about that later. Marcus needed her attention now. “Seriously, though, are you alright?”

 

“This? It’s nothing, I’ve had worse on the pitch,” Marcus tried to lie. The truth was that he had never been on the receiving end of a fist, and aside from his bruised body, it had bruised his ego as well. Howard Bell sure knew how to manhandle a bloke. “It’s a bit uncomfortable, s’all.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Katie apologised again, “Dad isn’t usually this violent. He’s just protective of me.”

 

Marcus grunted in reply and then pitifully pointed at his lips, “It hurts here. Maybe, you can kiss the pain away.”

 

Katie shook her head smiling and planted a gentle kiss on his lips, too afraid to deepen it. “Mum says that Dad is sorry for overreacting. He knows that he should have talked to us, instead…you know.”

 

She picked up a wet flannel from the cart next to the bed and dabbed his face to clean up the stray dried up blood spatters. “He still doesn’t agree, of course, because I’m still in school and all. He thinks having a boyfriend would be too much of a distraction this shortly before my exams. Mum told…”

 

Marcus felt his heart drop as his ears began drumming and the rest of her chatter didn’t register anymore. Her father didn’t approve, what did that mean? Was that the reason her mother brought her was here, to allow her to say goodbye? He couldn’t let that happen, not now that he got a taste of what life with Katie would be like. No, he wouldn’t let go of her. He would beg and plead with the man if he had to, his pride be damned. There wasn’t much left of it, anyway.

 

“…what d'you say?” Katie ended her chatter, staring at him in hope. The weird look on his face took her aback. “Marcus? Do you want me to get a Healer? Are you feeling okay?”

 

“I’m fine.” He shook his head to clear his mind. “Your father doesn’t approve? At all? What are were gonna do now? You’re not ending things with me, are you?”

 

“Didn’t you listen?” Katie frowned in worry that he had hurt more than he led her to believe. “For now, he doesn’t. But, Mum talked some sense into him, and now Daddy says you can come over for dinner after I've finished school. To introduce yourself properly and all that nonsense.”

 

“What?” It was not what he had expected, and he needed to make sure that he hadn’t misheard. “He said that?”

 

“Well, he didn’t say the last part,’ Katie hesitated for a second before she rushed out, ‘Mum told him that you should come over, and Dad agreed to it in the end. He never says no to her. I haven’t spoken to him yet.”

 

She felt sad about that. Her father had ignored her when the MLE officers had brought him home earlier. It was an awful end to an otherwise brilliant week. And the way he had ignored her earlier made her feel even worse than she already felt.

 

“Oh, that’s something, I guess,” Marcus mumbled, “He isn’t going to try and kill me with his bloxing, is he?”

 

“Boxing,” Katie corrected and shrugged. She really couldn’t promise anything until her father decided to talk to her again. By the looks of it, that would be well after her N.E.W.T.’s.

 

“Mum promised to hide his wand and make sure that all potions are locked up when you come over.” She said nothing about the possibility of her father using his fists.

 

Marcus whimpered. If she said that to make him feel at ease, it did not. The fact that Mrs Bell thought about those things was a clear indication that Mr Bell was capable of anything. Maybe, he should look into how to cast protective shields and buy a bezoar. You'd never know when you might need one. Katie stroked his hand in efforts to calm him down, which worked.

 

They sat like that for in silence for a few minutes before Marcus spoke up, well aware of their fleeting time. “What happens now?”

 

“What do you mean?” Katie asked absentmindedly. She wanted to enjoy these last few minutes before her parents took her back to Hogwarts and pushed her back into the gritty school life. She hoped the few months would fly by so she could start her life already.

 

“Are you gonna go back to avoiding now that school starts again?” Marcus crossed his fingers in hopes of a satisfying answer. “And before you start, you’ve already admitted to doing that before, so don’t deny it.”

 

“Fine, I won’t then.” Katie huffed. It irked her that he had to go and ruin the mood. But most of all, she was annoyed that he had a point, damn him. Things could get tricky in the next few months.

 

“We haven’t got any Hogsmeade visits left for the remainder of the term,” she mused, “But, I’ll owl you every other day.”

 

“You can sneak out,” he countered. What she was offering wasn’t enough for him. And truth be told, he wasn’t too keen on the writing. It would mean that he would have to write back, which was certainly not his strongest suit. Asking Higgs to compose the letters was out the question since Katie would see right through that now. Besides, he’d rather hold her in the flesh.

 

“I don’t know. Madam Hooch has probably already told Dumbledore and McGonagall what happened today, and Mum’s going to want to have a talk with them. With my luck, they'll assign me detention with Snape.”

 

“So?” Marcus didn’t see what one had to do with the other. Was she looking for excuses to let him down gently? Maybe, all this talk about dinner with her parents was a ploy to placate him for now, and when the time came, she would toss him aside like yesterday’s Prophet.

 

“So, the chances are that Filch is going to patrol outside the Tower more often,” she told him slowly, “And aside from detention, I’ll still need to study and practise Quidditch.”

 

The getting caught part wasn’t what unnerved her the most. If Filch caught her sneaking out to meet him, her parents would lock her away in the highest tower and throw away the key this time. And probably hunt down Marcus and Avada him on the spot. Yeah, she had absolutely no doubt about that one.

 

“You don’t know that,” he interjected, panicking a little. He could practically see other boys crowding around to gain her attention and then she would forget all about him. That he had managed to grab and hold her attention for this long was a miracle in itself. He wasn’t a pretty boy like that McLogg or a charmer like Wood. “You’re a witch and a Gryffindor at that. You can figure out something. Come on, at least try before you say no.”

 

Katie hesitated, but with him looking at her with sad eyes, she conceded with a simple nod. His radiant smile was enough to lock away any doubt she might have had, especially when he pulled her down for a kiss. She wanted to lean into him, but his grunt when she put her hands on his chest was enough to keep her from doing so. Had it really been just this morning that he’d kissed her like this? It seemed a lifetime ago.

 

“Kathleen Bell!” a voice shrieked behind them. “I told you to refrain yourself. Get up. We’re leaving. Now.” Carol Bell stood in the door opening, her hands on her hips and tapping her foot impatiently. “Move it, young lady.”

 

Katie pulled away from Marcus and let her head hang in disappointment; time had passed too fast. “I should go,” she murmured.

 

After another quick peck, she stood up and joined her mother at the door. Marcus looked pissed off at the sudden interruption and was about to say something. She shook her head, not wanting to push her luck with her mother. With a final ‘goodbye’ and a promise to write, they left him.

 

Her mother led her by the arm to the reception area of St. Mungo’s, making her feel like the small child that her parents often mistook her for. When would they learn that she was an adult now? As they joined the queue for the Floo and awaited their turn, all she could think about was that they had three very long months ahead of them.


	16. Denial is a river

The library was more crowded than Katie would have liked it to be. Between detentions with Snape, Quidditch training, and the short novellas she wrote Marcus every other day, she was running enormously behind on her homework and revisions for her N.E.W.T.’s. The one night she'd decided to catch up, all the other students at Hogwarts had come up with the same idea it seemed.

 

She tried to concentrate on her final Transfiguration essay, but Leanne’s constant groaning on her left made it nearly impossible.

 

“Stop it,” Katie snapped, “I’m trying to study here.”

 

Leanne huffed and was silent for a minute before the distracting groans started again. She clutched her abdomen and faintly doubled over. Seeing the thunderous expression on her friend’s face, she tried to explain her troubles.

 

“Cramps. And Madam Pomfrey has run out on Soothing Potion until the morning. I’m practically dying here. Why are you so cruel to me?”

 

“Can you die in silence, then? My future is depending on this.” Utterly annoyed, Katie returned to the start of the chapter she had been staring at for the last hour. And still, she had no idea what she was reading, let alone write an essay about it. At this rate, she’d only have half an inch written by the end of the evening. The words danced in before her eyes and her mind began to wander. A sudden thought hit her, and she looked up at Leanne, frowning.

 

“When did it start?”

 

“When did what start?” Leanne asked, grumpy that her friend had dismissed her misery so callously earlier.

 

“Your period,” Katie clarified impatiently. “When did it start?”

 

“Three days ago. It’s the worst yet,” Leanne answered and then asked hopefully, “Why? Do you have something for the cramps? Please, please, say you do.”

 

“No reason, I was just wondering. Sorry, I haven’t got any left.” Katie flashed her friend a half-smile and returned to her book, counting back the days in her mind. It was probably nothing, just the effects of stress.

 

*****KM****

 

Katie made sure the door to her dorm's bathroom was locked before she returned to the mirror. The watery streaks distorted her reflection, but she was able to see enough. She had spent the last half hour in the shower, impatiently waiting until she was sure that everyone was gone. She could only image her dorm mates’ weird looks if they’d see her like this.

 

She studied herself intently, scrutinising every inch of a particular part of her body. Then she turned to her sides, repeating the process. Yes, there was a change there, just as Cormac had seen fit to point out in the middle of the Great Hall. Loud enough for everyone to hear and stare at her chest. Always the charmer, that Cormac.

 

_‘You’ve put enlargement charms on your tits, Bell?’_

 

But still, he was right. There was a slight change there, barely visible, but a change nonetheless. Katie wasn’t sure how bothered she ought to be by the knowledge that Cormac had studied her breasts long enough to notice such a thing, over her clothes at that.

 

Even before he had opened his big mouth, her breasts had felt different. Uncomfortable. Yes, she was looking for that word, uncomfortable and unfitting. At first, she'd reckoned that her bras had shrunk in the wash, or that someone was playing a joke on her.

 

She turned full frontal again, frowning at her image. They were rounder, fuller even, and her areolas were darker than usual. For good measure, she cupped her breasts gently. They felt heavier, too. No, there was no denying, her breasts were changing. She let out a sigh and returned to her daily morning routine.

 

“Great, a growth spurt at almost nineteen,” she grumbled. Because what else could it be?

 

As she got dressed, she made a mental note to write her mother and ask for a few new, larger bras.

 

*****KM*****

 

‘…another reason can be preg-’

 

Katie slammed the ‘The Young Witches’ Guide to Her Body’ shut and let out a deep breath. There was nothing to be scared about. Her body was just reacting to the stress of her upcoming exams and the wait for the acceptance or rejection letters from the clubs she had tried out for. It was a reasonable explanation.

 

That or she was deadly sick and needed acute medical attention before she kicked the bucket. But she could live with that. Because that very last possibility was not an option. Not happening. Nope, not in a million years.

 

She needed to be patient. By this time next week, she'd be back to her old self. There was no need to worry.

 

*****KM*****

 

“You look terrible,” Leanne whispered. Like the ever-faithful friend she was, she had managed to get herself detention with Snape so she could keep Katie company for a few nights.

 

Katie wiped a lock from her sweaty forehand with the back of her hand. “You don’t look all too fresh yourself. You've something on your nose.”

 

She felt cranky and her back and arms hurt from scrubbing cauldrons for the past month and a half. Leanne probably meant it well, but she didn’t need to hear that she looked like shit. She already knew that, saw it in the mirror every day.

 

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Leanne retorted as she wiped her nose, smearing the smudge further. “Have you been sleeping at all? You look tired.”

 

“I can sleep for hours.” Katie kept her eyes on the cauldron in her hand. “I just wake up as tired as the night before.”

 

“You’re not sick, are you? Maybe, you should ask Madam Pomfrey to check you over, or give you a Pepper-Up Pot-”

 

“I'm all right,” Katie cut her off. She repeated her new mantra over and over again in her head. “It’s just the stress. I have a lot on my plate right now with exams and all. The clubs are sending out the letters next week. I’m nervous about that too.”

 

“You can tell if there’s something else,” Leanne offered gently. “Or, if you want to vent your worries.”

 

Katie forced a smile on her face because she knew her friend meant well. “Yeah, sure, I know where to find you.”

 

They continued their scrubbing in silence after that. Leanne worried for her, whereas Katie was too deep in thought to notice it.

 

Could it be that she was dying after all?

 

*****KM*****

 

The girls were still giggling and chattering on the other side of the stall, frustrating Katie to no end. She needed them to leave so she could continue her nervous breakdown in peace. Couldn’t they go and bother Myrtle or something? Out of all the lavatories in the castle, this one had to be the gathering ground for too cheery fifth year Gryffindors. She didn’t need to hear about Creevy’s nice bum or Finnigan’s sweet dimples. For a minute, she thought about hexing the girls to shut them up. She already had detention with Snape until her exams, and there was nothing worse left than that they could throw at her as punishment.

 

“Shut the fuck up!” Katie yelled and pounded on the door. “Leave already, you twats!”

 

It had the desired effect, and the girls quieted down. Unfortunately, just as Katie thought that she had some peace, the girls started their giggling and talking again. Much louder this time. Katie closed her eyes and counted to ten. Thankfully, for the girls and her sanity, the bell rang, signalling the start of the afternoon classes. She let out a sigh in relief as her sanctuary emptied and she was alone again. She should be in Transfiguration herself, but couldn’t muster up the will to go. As it was, something else required her immediate attention right now.

 

“Come on, come on,” she muttered. “Please, just make an appearance already. I promise never to complain about you ever again.”

 

Her schoolbag lay opened at her feet, ready for her to grab it as soon as needed. The package with pads between her books seemed to mock her with its cheerful colours. The Holyhead Harpies’ acceptance letter she’d received yesterday, partially stuck out her Potions book. Katie scoffed at the sight, tears of frustration pricking her eyes.

 

She took another deep breath and peered between her legs into the toilet bowl again, as she had done multiple times a day for the past few weeks. Still nothing. That meant she had missed two now, and it was time for her to face the facts.

 

“Dammit,” she cried and dropped her head in her hands. Her shoulders started shaking while her sobs grew louder.

 

This was bad. This was very, very bad.

 

*****KM*****

 

Marcus sat slumped in his favourite chair as he stared out the window and sipped from his drink. It was a warm Saturday morning in June, the ideal weather to go out and enjoy the better things in life. However, he preferred to stay inside to get sloshed. He felt gutted, and Firewhiskey proved to be a good friend in moments like these.

 

At least he wasn’t drinking alone. Higgs and Pucey were with him to keep him company. Both had their own problems to face and were drinking as hard as he was.

 

Terence's problem was easy to pinpoint. Sophia had returned earlier in the week after months of absence, claiming to be all new and improved. She was ‘normal’ now, the young and bubbly girl she had been when he had first met her. He was sure that it was all a façade and merely a matter of time before the other shoe dropped, and she turned back to the screaming banshee he knew.

 

Pucey’s problem was a mystery to the other two. A couple of nights ago he had shown up with a painful looking handprint, refusing to explain what had happened. Marcus reckoned he ought to ask him what his problem was, but his own woes were more important. And Pucey wouldn’t tell if they pushed him, anyway. If anything, interrogating him would have the opposite effect; he would just withdraw further into himself.

 

Marcus let out a soft sigh out of boredom. He should be out celebrating, reaping the fruits of his season-long efforts. The Tornadoes had won the League last week, for Merlin’s sake. Instead of rejoicing in the fact and all of the fame that came with it, he was holed up in his house with his two morose friends. And he blamed Katie for it.

 

It had been more than two months since he had last seen or talked to her in person. The only connection he had with her had been those damned owls. As she had predicted, she had detention every night with Snape until her exams started, Filch and his demon cat patrolled the corridors outside of Gryffindor Tower more frequently, and she was drowning in her studies in preparation for her exams. She had written him every other day, as she had promised, and he had done his best to reply to each one with more than three sentences.

 

Then, suddenly two weeks ago, poof, the letters had stopped. She didn’t reply to his missives and hadn’t even written to congratulate him on the Tornadoes’ championship. If it weren’t for Millicent’s daily assurances that Katie was still alive and breathing, he would have suspected the worse. Well, he still did. Millie did write him that Katie was avoiding her. She also didn’t have a way of knowing what went on in Gryffindor Tower. For all they knew, Katie could have found herself a new lover and decided to keep it a secret until school was finished. The idea alone made his insides hurt.

 

_‘Lovesick fool.’_

 

Marcus was just about to summon Crumpet to bring in another bottle to drown himself in when the hearth roared to life, and his mother’s well-coiffed head appeared. He groaned inwardly since it could only mean one thing.

 

“Marky-poo, are you there?” Sally Flint called out as she looked around squinting. “Baby boy, Mummy wants to speak to you.”

 

Sally, like her sister Lucille Bulstrode, was too vain to wear her glasses to improve her eyesight. Unless you stood a few inches from her face, she couldn't see you. Or pretended not to, Marcus wasn’t sure to which extent it was a charade on his mother’s part because she seemed to notice insignificant details just fine. It was something very much like his father’s hearing problems that popped up whenever she started talking.

 

“I’m here, Mother,” Marcus replied sourly. After giving his two friends the finger for sniggering at his mother’s terms of endearment, he moved closer to the hearth.

 

“Oh darling, good to catch you at home,” his mother started and then stopped. She narrowed her eyes, clearly not liking what she was seeing. “You look like a tramp. I can practically smell you through the flames. When was the last time you showered?”

 

“Thank you, Mother. Your eyesight is working quite well today,” Marcus drawled, as he thought of several ways to end this conversation unscathed. “I've missed you too, by the way.”

 

“Don’t get cheeky with me, young man. You’re not too old to receive a proper arse warming,” Sally warned. She turned her head for a minute, talking to someone else and turned around again, grinning. “Your father says he’ll do the honours himself if you keep it up.”

 

Marcus blanched for a moment; he remembered his father’s heavy hand. The old fart had never, ever held back.

 

“Fine, Mother, my apologies. I had a few rough days, with the win and all,” he lied and flung a stinging hex in his friends’ direction. The bastards were laughing at him again. Their yelps of pain were satisfying for now. “I’ve celebrated too much, I guess.”

 

Sally shook her head in disgust and sighed dramatically. “Drank too much again? When are you going to grow up and settle down, Marcus? With a decent girl,” she rushed to add the last bit. “Those tarts you spend your time with are just that, tarts. You can do better. Why don’t I call Auntie Lucille and we’ll find you a proper girl? What do you say?”

 

Marcus bit back a biting comment about his mother’s and Lucille’s idea of a proper girl. Only the memory of his father’s heavy hand made him hold in. “Not now, mother. Thank you for offering, though.”

 

It was the same conversation they had each time they talked. Well, this time it wasn’t going to end in an argument. He just didn’t have the energy for it. “Was there a reason you rang?”

 

_‘Of course there is.’_

 

“It’s just a courtesy, really,” Sally replied, miffed that Marcus had turned down her offer, again. “Your father and I shall return to the Manor this weekend. Spain is just too warm in the summer, and the invasion has already begun.”

 

She shuddered visibly at the thought of the all those commoners polluting her beloved beaches. “Make sure the house is cleaned and stocked properly. I trust you and those scoundrels you call friends haven’t broken anything. We’ll have dinner Saturday night, and you can tell us all about this little hobby of yours and your plans for your future.”

 

_‘Quidditch is not a hobby, old hag.’_

 

“I’ll inform Crumpet. He’ll be happy to have something more to do.” Marcus nodded, wondering if Adrian’s flat was big enough to hold the two of them for the rest of the summer. “Was there something else? Other than finding me a bride, of course?”

 

“Yes, your father wants to speak to you. Ta, my little bear. And for the love of Circe, stop the drinking and take a shower. You have the Flint looks, honey. That’s already a curse. You don’t need to emphasise that with poor hygiene. You’ll need to take better care of yourself if you want to find a wife. I’ll see you in a few days.”

 

Marcus grunted in goodbye and before he could lock the Floo, Aurelius’ face replaced Sally’s, telling his wife to quit her rambling and leave the room so that he could speak to his son. For an outsider, it was quite clear from who Marcus got his features. His colouring was all Sally, the dark hair and tan skin, but the rest was Aurelius. From the wide feet with the hammertoes to the hulky built and the crooked teeth.

 

“What is it, Father?” Marcus felt a headache coming up. Whatever it was his father wanted to discuss, the predatory grin on the man’s face did not bode well.

 

“Straight to the chase, eh?” Aurelius laughed appreciatively, a deep and boisterous sound. He held up a letter. “This came a few weeks ago. Guess who it’s from.”

 

Marcus shrugged, not in the mood for his father’s games. The old man could keep it up for hours. “I have no idea. Why don’t you just spit out what’s have you giddy like a little girl? My drink is waiting for me.”

 

“The arse warming warning still stands, son,” Aurelius warned, waving his hand. “Then again, you’ve already got one, haven’t you? The Prophet was full of it. It’s a shame your friends didn’t inform us about it. Your mother nearly had a fit when she found out days later that you were hospitalised. Took me minutes to calm her down.”

 

“She could have fooled me,” Marcus murmured shrugging. “You sure didn’t bother to call or come back home to check on me. Auntie Lucille had to wash me for Merlin's sake.”

 

“Knowing you, you probably had it coming. It didn’t kill you, did it?” Aurelius replied casually. He had never been to one to mollycoddle his son. He was spoilt enough as it was. “Why bother cutting our time here short to listen to your moaning. Anyway, does the name Howard Bell ring a bell, son?”

 

Marcus swallowed hard at hearing that particular name. “Father?”

 

“This kind gentleman took it upon himself to explain what actually happened to you. Quite the story, if you ask me.” Aurelius quickly scanned the letter again before he continued. “He doesn’t seem to like you very much, does he? Do you have any idea why that is?”

 

Marcus didn’t reply and turned to his friends for some support. All they offered were shrugs, the earlier stinging hex not forgotten. Fortunately, Aurelius answered his own question.

 

“Yes, apparently you’ve mistaken his daughter with one of the other lovely ladies you usually surround yourself with. He tells me that he’s caught you in his daughter’s room. Accuses you of defiling his little girl among other things. Is it this true? Have you? Or, is this merely a case of a father not knowing his own daughter and she is a slag?”

 

“Don’t call her that!” Marcus growled at his father insinuation. Was this why Katie'd cut off all communication all of a sudden? Did her father change his mind about Marcus and forced her to break it off with him? “Father, listen-”

 

“No, you listen, you little shit!” Aurelius bellowed. “Just a few generations ago, the man would have been within his right to duel and kill you. You should praise yourself lucky that you’ve got away with a few slaps.”

 

A few slaps? Howard Bell had nearly killed him. “Father, I don’t-”

 

“How can you let yourself get caught? Haven’t I taught you anything?” Aurelius raged on. “Never overstay your visit, always put up silencing charms, and make sure you have an escape plan. And always, always, make sure to know with what kind of family you’re dealing with. Deranged fathers and brothers are deal breakers, Marcus. You ought to know this by now.”

 

Ah, that was his problem. He was just angry that his son hadn’t followed the sacred rules. Marcus allowed his father to continue for a few more minutes before he interrupted him.

 

“I don’t know what I was thinking,” he said flatly. “I’m sorry, father. It won’t happen again.”

 

_‘She’s written me off, anyway.’_

 

“You make sure of that. You better treat that girl like the princess her father thinks she is or stay away from the chit. Howard Bell is a nightmare to deal with, so you better fix this. I’m sure he’ll kill you if the girl sheds one tear over you. You’re my only child, Marcus. I’m too old to start over again if he does so.”

 

“Your worry is touching. Don’t worry, I’ll be on my guard the next time.” He had enough of this conversation. There was no doubt in his mind that his father would repeat everything on a daily basis when he got home next weekend. After some pleasantries and instructions, father and son bid their goodbyes.

 

“Not a word,” Marcus threatened his friends when he saw them sniggering again. Just as he was to tell them off, the hearth roared back to life. He groaned in frustration, expecting it to be his mother with further instructions. Or even a short-list with potential brides, he wouldn’t put it beside her.

 

However, the face that appeared in the hearth belonged to the last person he expected to Floo-call him.

 

“Mister Flint?”


	17. A bump in the road

Katie nibbled on a piece of skin on her thumb as sat she across Madam Pomfrey in her office. The matron smiled sadly at her when she caught her eye and continued with scribbling on the parchments in front of her. She had been doing that whole morning, and it was starting to get on Katie’s nerves; she wanted someone to talk to her and reassure her that she was making the right decision.

 

Last night, while dissecting Horned Toads in detention, she had vomited on Snape’s shoes when he came to check on her progress and passed out shortly after. If it had been up to Katie, she would have never gone to the infirmary in the first place. But by the time she'd woken up it had been morning, and McGonagall and Pomfrey had been staring gravely at her. The words that her Head of House had uttered still echoed through her head.

 

She hadn’t needed the older women to tell her what was wrong with her. She had already known for weeks but had refused to acknowledge it. It had been a shock to process, an unwelcome surprise she’d rather keep to herself until she’d mustered up enough to courage to talk to Marcus. It was one thing to know, saying it aloud made it too real. Nevertheless, real or not, she’d already made up her mind, and no-one was going to talk her out of it.

 

Feeling restless and agitated, Katie jumped up and paced up and down the small office to settle her nerves. This wasn't how she had imagined telling Marcus. There was a time and place for these kinds of things. A Saturday morning at Hogwarts, a few days before the start of her first exams, was not it. At least she managed to talk the older women out of contacting her parents or informing Dumbledore for the time being.

 

McGonagall’s voice and Marcus’ grunting on the other side of the door made her stop her pacing. Her legs felt like jelly all of a sudden. Madam Pomfrey caught her by the arm just in time and helped her back in her chair.

 

“It will all be alright, dearie,” the matron tried to soothe her. “Remember what I've told you: take deep breaths so you don’t faint again.”

 

Katie wanted to say that she was trying but that the conversation she was about to have with Marcus nearly had her soil her knickers. But, other than some unintelligible sounds, nothing worthwhile came out. The other voices were close now, just on the other side of the door.

 

McGonagall opened the door to allow Marcus entrance. “You can go in, Mister Flint. Madam Pomfrey and I will be right outside in case you might need us. Poppy?”

 

Katie didn’t look up, unsure of what to do. She could practically feel Marcus’ eyes burn on her back. Madam Pomfrey handed her the forms, briefly explaining in hushed tones what needed to be done for the further proceedings and wished her strength.

 

As soon as the door closed behind the two women, Marcus sat down next to her. Neither spoke as Katie stared at her hands while he stared at her. He was probably confused about being summoned here. She couldn’t blame him; it wasn’t an everyday occurrence that someone was called back to school to have a chat with their girlfriend.

 

Marcus was the first to give in. He tried to hold her hand on the armrest. When she withdrew it as soon as he touched her skin, he sighed in frustration.

 

“You’re doing it again, Bell. What the fuck is going on?”

 

She would have commented on his use of her last name if it weren’t for the stench he seemed to be oozing from every pore. The smell of Firewhisky on his breath made her gag thanks to her recently developed overreaction to strong smells.

 

“Gods, Marcus. Have been you been drinking already? It’s barely noon.”

 

“I was still celebrating my success,” Marcus clipped. “You may have heard about it. Championship and whatnot. Don’t change the subject, Bell. You were ignoring me again. And why am I here and why did I just get scolded by McGonagall for being irresponsible?”

 

Right, the championship. She was so proud of him, had cheered herself hoarse after hearing the final whistle over the Wireless, and she wasn’t even a Tornadoes fan. The Prophet had raved on for days about the spectacular game and Marcus’ many goals. He had singlehandedly assured the Tornadoes the win.

 

And despite being proud of him, she hadn’t written him once to congratulate him. Heaven’s, she hadn’t written him a single word for the past fortnight because she hadn’t known how to tell him her own news since everything she had penned down had come out wrong.

 

“I’m still waiting here.” Marcus rubbed his temples when Katie stayed silent. “Dammit, Bell. At least look at me.”

 

The edge in his voice made Katie flinch, but she still refused to face him and preferred to chew on her lip as she studied her hands. Her nails were bitten off to the nail bed, and scabs marred her cuticles, a nervous habit she thought she’d kicked ages ago.

 

‘Nervous’ was exactly how she felt. And it only got worse. She should have written him, found a way to sneak out. This was too important, too life changing.

 

“I’m pregnant,” she whispered barely audible.

 

“Come again?” Marcus asked after a few moments of thick silence. “I thought I heard you say-”

 

“I’m pregnant,” Katie repeated herself, louder this time. The words still sounded alien. “Madam Pomfrey confirmed it this morning. She reckons I’m nearly ten weeks along.”

 

“How did that happen?” Marcus asked dumbfounded. “I mean…. How?”

 

“Well, when a boy and a girl like each other very much…” Katie snarled. “How do you think it happened, you git. I’m not on the potion, and we’ve apparently forgotten the charm the last time.”

 

“No, I did- wait. Oh.” Marcus nodded, now it was his turn to stare at his hands.

 

He looked very pale all of a sudden, she noticed. Actually, he looked like he might be the one to faint at any moment.

 

“Say something,” Katie whispered as she grabbed his cold, clammy hand. “Marcus?”

 

“Your dad is going to kill me.” He groaned at the thought of Howard Bell and his pounding fists.

 

“I tell you that I’m up the duff, and the first thing you can think about is my dad?” Katie wasn’t sure if she was supposed to laugh or cry at his reaction.

 

“That’s not all that strange, is it? I barely survived the last time,” he tried to explain. Then another thought hit him. Why was he the first one here? This wasn’t the usual Hogwarts policy, was it? “Haven’t they informed your parents already? Not that I mind.”

 

Katie shook her head. “No. I, ah, had a discussion with McGonagall about it. I’m of age, so they can’t inform them if I don’t want them to. And Dad won’t find out, don’t worry about him.”

 

“What do you mean? It’s going to get a bit tricky to hide it over time.” He gestured at her stomach. “And then there is the whole b-baby thing to explain when it finally pops out.”

 

The stutter hadn’t escaped Katie; she felt the same. Instead of answering immediately, she picked up the forms Pomfrey had prepared for her and studied them. How was she going to explain this? Would he understand? She needed him to understand.

 

“Have I told you that the Harpies offered me a spot on their reserve team a few weeks ago,” she whispered. “The mandatory training camp starts mid-July.”

 

“That’s great, love,” Marcus snapped, “But, how’s that going to save me from your father? We’re having a baby, let’s discuss that first before we plan out your career.”

 

“It affects my career.” Katie took a deep breath. “I’ve already thought it through; we're not having a baby.”

 

She closed her eyes and dug her fingers in the armrests, bracing herself for his reaction. When none came, she continued, “It’s too soon, and I’m not ready for a b-ba…it. I want to have a career first, see the world, and live my life.”

 

“You can do that with a kid,” Marcus interjected. He sounded and looked confused, hoping and praying that she wasn’t saying what he thought she was saying. “The timing is a bit off, but we can make it work. We can arrange something with the Harpies and we’ll just need to make some adjustments. We’ll need our own house. I guess I’ll have to talk to your father, and mine-”

 

“No, I don’t want it. I won’t have it,” Katie cut him off, her voice hard. She forced herself to think about her future, her chances to play professional Quidditch. A child hadn’t been in her plans and dreams, at least not for another couple of years. Even allowing herself to think about it messed up those plans. She wasn’t ready and probably wouldn’t be for a long while to come. She passed him the forms, silently pleading for him to understand.

 

“I don’t think that I’m ready to be someone’s mother just yet.”

 

“What the…” His eyes grew round in shock as they took in what was explained on the parchments. When he looked up, his face had twisted in anger.

 

“Don’t I get a say in this?” he hissed. “You can’t do this.”

 

“Madam Pomfrey made an appointment for me for next Friday at St. Mungo’s. They won’t go ahead with the, ah, procedure without a signature from the father.”

 

Katie tried to swallow the lump in her throat before it suffocated her. She was well aware that she denied him a say in this mess. But it was her body, her choice and her life. She wouldn’t allow him or anybody else to make her change her mind.

 

“You’ve already made an appointment? Why would-” Marcus stopped before he said something unforgivable. “Listen, love. Can’t we at least talk about this first? I-I’ll take care of the baby if you really don’t want to. Mum and Aunt Lucille will help, too. I know they will. Please, think about it,” he pleaded. “And when you’re ready, we can be a fam-”

 

“Marcus, no. I can’t do this.”

 

“In that case, I won’t sign,” he snapped and threw the papers back at her, wondering what had happened to the Katie he had come to know. Didn’t she even care about his feelings? Would she have told him about this if she hadn’t needed his signature?

 

“Then I’ll lie,” she snapped back, “I’ll say that I don’t know who the father is.”

 

That wouldn’t work; she knew that. When she calmed down enough, she picked up the papers from the floor and tried to hand them to him.

 

“Please,” she pleaded softly, “I can’t do this, I don’t want this.”

 

“What about what I want?” When she didn’t respond or even acknowledge his question, he abruptly stood up. The sudden movement knocked over the chair, making Katie jump up a little. He snatched the papers from her hand without sparing her a final glance and stalked off in fury, unhinging the door on his way out and pushing away the two older women waiting to have a word with them.

 

Katie didn’t call out or follow. Instead, she sat in her seat, rocking back and forth. Tears she'd been holding since that morning, finally spilt down her cheeks in droves. She felt sorry: for Marcus, for the tiny baby growing inside her and for herself. But it was for the best. She needed to keep telling herself that if she wanted to make it through this, it was for the best. Even if it broke her heart into a million pieces. He would understand eventually, even if he’d never forgive her.

 

Early Monday morning an owl delivered the signed papers. Katie wasn’t sure if she felt relieved or saddened by it.

 

*****KM*****

 

The sun was barely out when Katie walked to McGonagall’s office to use the Floo. She tried to enjoy the warm rays on her face as she passed the windows, tried to pretend that this was like any other day. Not matter how hard she tried to fool herself, though, today was anything but normal. She was sure that this would be the one day that would stay etched in her memory forever.

 

Madam Pomfrey was already waiting for her and greeted her with a soft ‘good morning’. The woman looked as uneasy as Katie felt, she could see it in her rigid form, the haunted eyes, and the nervous wringing of her hands. She asked Katie to sit down and went on to explain again what the Healers were going to do later in the morning and what she should expect.

 

She already knew what was going to happen; she'd drink a potion, pain and bleeding would commence, and when the bleeding had stopped, she would be allowed to go back to school to study for her next N.E.W.T.’s and pretend that the whole thing had never happened. Her hand moved to her belly, in a few hours it wouldn’t be there anymore. She was scared, couldn’t stop shaking, and felt sick to her stomach. She wanted to believe that it was just the morning sickness and not a sign that it tried to make its presence known.

 

“Are you ready, dear?” Madam Pomfrey asked kindly.

 

Katie nodded where she wanted to shake ‘no’ and run back to her dormitory. She wanted to yell out that she needed more time to think, that she needed to discuss this with Marcus again. Her voice failed her, though, as it had done some many times the past week. Instead of screaming out her confusion, she meekly followed the matron to the fireplace.

 

As she hesitantly stepped into the green flames, she couldn’t help but doubt her decision. Even the prospect of playing for the Harpies couldn’t take that uncertainty away. Questions clouded her mind. What was she doing? Where was the relief she had expected? Why wasn’t Marcus with her? Did he really mean it when he said that they could make it work?

 

She had written him every day for the last week, asking and begging him to understand. She had owled him the exact time and date in hopes that he would be there to help her get through it. Other than the official papers, he hadn’t responded. The realisation of what this meant for their relationship broke her heart. The end.

 

The separate Floo entrance allowed the much-needed privacy for the visitors and patients of the unnamed ward. The place itself was thankfully empty when the two women stepped out. The white, pristine corridors were the exact opposite of what Katie had expected. Her dreams had been full of dark and shadowy rooms with medieval appliances on the walls. This…this was just too normal, like every other hospital ward. There was nothing there to hint at the sort of treatments the Healers offered. There was nothing to keep her mind distracted or reassure her.

 

Madam Pomfrey led her to the waiting room and then left to announce their arrival. Katie didn’t notice any of it as she slumped in her chair and buried her face in her hands. She closed her eyes and only saw images of dark-haired babies sleeping in their cots. Tears ran down her cheeks as she waited for Madam Pomfrey to return with a Healer. When the door opened, she didn’t look up, afraid to get her hopes up. Nor did she when the heavy footsteps stopped in front of her and a person fell to their knees. Only when two strong arms enveloped her in a crushing hug, she dared to open her eyes.

 

Marcus was here and held on tightly. She felt his tears soak through her blouse as hers equally wetted his shirt. His presence consoled her, told her that she wouldn’t need to go through this alone after all.

 

They just sat there, crying and holding each other, saying nothing. She hoped that he would try to convince her to change her mind and take her home with him. She hoped that he would demand that they discuss this further before she did something irreversible.

 

He did none of those things.

 

Marcus held her tighter her when Pomfrey returned with the Healer. He kept holding on when the Healer directed them to the room where the potion awaited her. Only when the door open and the hospital bed became visible, he reluctantly let go of her hand.

 

“Do you want me to come in with you?” he asked, his eyes and voice watery.

 

Katie took her time to study him before she answered. He looked worse for wear. There was days’ worth of stubble on his face, and dark circles were visible under his eyes.

 

Eventually, she shook her head; this was her decision, her journey. The hurt on his face only added to her own pain and guilt. Still incapable of using her voice, she kissed him gently on his cheek and let the door fall shut behind her.

 

*****KM*****

 

“We’ll need to perform a test first,” the older Healer, who had introduced herself as Mandy, told Katie. “Just lie down when you’re ready and relax.”

 

Katie nodded and wondered when she'd finally feel ready for this, or relax for that matter. Not able to answer her own questions, she lay down on the hard, uncomfortable hospital cot. The thin gown the Healer made her change into, did nothing to stop the cold she felt on the inside. The urge to hide under a thick set of blankets and let the world pass was overwhelming. The doubt she was feeling grew with each passing second.

 

_‘What am I doing? Why am I here?’_

 

“Are you comfortable?” Mandy asked. She didn’t wait for a reply, “I’m going to conjure a screen so you won’t be bothered by the test I need to perform. It won’t take long; I just need to know how far along you are and how much of the potion you’re going to need. Okay?”

 

As Mandy set to work, Katie tried to calm her nerves with deep breaths and stared at the cracks in the ceiling. She inwardly debated with herself, tried to convince herself that she was doing to right thing today.

 

She had made plans for her life, and she was sure that Marcus had many plans of his own. A baby would ruin those. They weren’t even a couple for that long. What if, in a few months, they’d decide that it wasn’t working out without them? What then?

 

_‘Plans change all the time. Families fall apart after decades of being together; nothing is a given. You could die tomorrow, and all of your plans would be worth shit.’_

 

Katie focussed on Mandy. The woman's face lit up in a strange light after she finished murmuring a spell. She wished the woman would talk to her and tell her that everything would turn out alright. She needed to hear that there was life after this.

 

“What does the test do?” Katie asked and pushed away the immediate regret she felt at asking the question. Maybe, she shouldn’t have asked, but she wanted to know. Needed something to remember it by when all this was over.

 

Mandy looked sceptically at her and hesitated before she answered. “The spell allows me to see the foetus. I need to take measurements and see and hear how strong its heart beats. The potion is custom made based on this information. A drop can make the difference between a successful procedure and a fail. You don’t want to come back and go through this again if the potion doesn’t take, believe me.”

 

No, Katie decided, she certainly would not want to repeat this awful day. The woman kept scribbling, ignoring her as she did so. It had a heartbeat and measurements. She didn’t know why, but even with the book knowledge, she had gained the past few weeks on the subject, hearing it said aloud shocked her.

 

Still desperately trying to process what the woman was doing, she asked in a small voice, “Can you see it?”

 

Mandy nodded but didn’t elaborate further. She continued taking notes, looking up now and then, avoiding her patient’s eyes.

 

“Can I…” Katie trailed off, mentally scolding herself for even thinking about it. Why was she torturing herself?

 

“What, dear?” Mandy absentmindedly asked as she focussed on her clipboard.

 

“I want to see,” Katie whispered. “I want to hear.”

 

_‘No, you don’t. Say you didn’t mean it.’_

 

Mandy sighed and put her clipboard down. “Why, dearie? You'd only be torturing yourself. Trust me, not seeing is for the best. You’re going to have a difficult time as it is when you go home this afternoon. That much I can already see. You don’t want to add visuals to that.”

 

“I want to see,” Katie repeated, more forcefully this time. She knew that she would regret it. But she would be the one living with it, not her. “Please, let me see.”

 

“Answer me this first,” Mandy asked, “Why are you here, and how sure are you about wanting this?”

 

“Abortion,” Katie answered and licked her chapped lips. “I thought… I don’t know… I’m not sure of anything.”

 

The Healer nodded in understanding and offered her a glass of water first. When Katie was done drinking, the older woman asked again if she was sure. When the answer was affirmative, she vanished the screen.

 

The woman watched as the girl started to cry, her eyes stayed fixed on the ghostlike image floating in front of her. The little muscle in the middle beat in a healthy, fast rate. Mandy didn’t turn on the sound; the poor girl didn’t need that.

 

It took a while for Katie's sobs to die down. Determination replaced the doubt that had been nibbling at her for the last few days. She wiped her nose with the back of her and tried to even out her breathing.

 

“My boyfriend is waiting outside. Can you please ask him to come in?” she asked, her voice still quivering. When the Healer moved to vanish the image, she stopped her. “I want him to see it too.”

 

Mandy was about to protest, but the determined look on her patient's face stopped her, and she went to get the boyfriend. It was easy enough to locate him. The young man was sitting on the corridor floor with his back against the wall. He had his head tucked between his knees and his fingers entwined at the back of his neck. The Hogwarts matron sat next to him, softly speaking words of consolation. Both looked up when they heard Mandy clear her throat.

 

“Are you Miss Bell’s boyfriend? She wants to see you.”

 

“Is it done already? Is she alright?” Marcus asked in worry as he scrambled up.

 

Mandy recognised him now; his face had been plastered all over the Prophet for days. He was the captain of the Tornadoes, the League champions. She suddenly felt less sympathetic towards him and even more so for her patient. The bastard had probably dazzled the poor girl with his fame and fortune, and when he got her in trouble, he took the easy way out. It happened all the time; she had seen one similar case at least once a year since she had started working in the ward.

 

Mandy bit her tongue to keep herself from lashing out. “She wants to see you,” she repeated harshly and held the door open for him.

 

Katie was still watching the image above her stomach, going over her plans how this would affect them. She was still scared out of her wits and still felt sick to her stomach at the thoughts of what this decision would mean for the rest of her life, for their lives. Different scenarios kept playing in her mind until a familiar voice cut through them.

 

“Love? How are you feeling?” Marcus asked as he stood next to her bed. He was unsure of what do with himself. Should he hold her, would she even want him to hold her? “Are you alright? You're not in pain, are you?”

 

She tried to smile; his questions reminded her of her own ones when he had been the one lying on a hospital cot so many weeks ago. It had been already in their lives then as nothing more than a lump of cells she realised.

 

Marcus didn’t look around or paid any attention to anything other than her. Tears started again as she thought of how difficult this past week must have been for him, too. She equally admired and envied his easy acceptance of her pregnancy. All he had cared about was telling their parents. Now it was her turn to groan at the thought of her father.

 

“Are you in pain?” Marcus asked again and turned towards the Healer in panic. “Why aren’t you helping her? She’s hurting.”

 

Mandy just stood there, trying to figure out what was unfolding in front of her. In most of the Quidditch player cases she had worked on, the bloke just came in to make sure the procedure had been performed and left as soon a definite reply had been given. This one actually seemed to care about the girl. Huh, who would have thought?

 

“I'm okay, calm down,” Katie reassured him. “They haven’t given me anything yet.”

 

Marcus deflated at her words and slumped down in the chair next to the bed, mumbling ‘yet’ as he stared at the floor.

 

“Do you want me to be here when they do?” he asked in a small voice. “Because I will, you know. I won’t let you go through this alone. It was…is mine too.”

 

“I want you to be here,” Katie whispered and tried to pull him closer by his shirt, “But first, you need to see this. Mandy, you said there was sound?”

 

At the flick of Mandy’s wand, a loud thumping sound filled the room. Marcus looked around in confusion. When he finally noticed the small image hovering over Katie, he stilled and tilted his head.

 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Katie cooed, still awed by the image.

 

“Is this real?” he whispered and then suddenly pulled back. “Pomfrey said that they wouldn’t show. Why are we looking at this? I-I need to…I can’t…”

 

“Don’t go.” Katie still held on to his shirt as she got up and sat on the bedrail and the image vanished in a small puff of smoke. Her head was spinning with all the emotions she'd gone through the last week. “We need to talk.”

 

Mandy left the room quietly, giving the youngster some privacy. It looked like that the potion wouldn’t need brewing today. Hopefully, the girl wouldn't be back any time soon either.

 

Madam Pomfrey still stood waiting, anxiously wringing her hands. Before she could speak up, Mandy threw an arm around her and led her away.

 

“Why don’t we get a cuppa, Poppy? You can tell me all about those two inside. They’re quite an odd pair, aren't they?”

 

The matron tried to object, not wanting to leave her charge behind, “But, shouldn’t we-”

 

“They have a lot discuss,” Mandy interrupted knowingly. “We’ll check on them after we had a cup of tea.”


	18. Decision making

Adrian was pacing up and down the reception area of St. Mungo’s, like he had been doing for the better part of the day. Unwashed, unkempt, with his hands behind his back, and sometimes even muttering to himself, he was quite a sight to behold. Together with Terence, he had promised to accompany Marcus that morning, offer moral support on this difficult day. He wasn’t sure what he was supposed to expect, but this waiting was killing him. It would have been nice for Marcus to drop by now and then to keep them updated on Bell.

  

Both Terence and Adrian had taken the whole week off from work to ensure Marcus didn’t do anything more stupid than usual. Their heart went out to their friend since these were hard decisions to make as Adrian could imagine. Marcus had been a drunken wreck ever since his return from his impromptu visit to Hogwarts; raging and crying on the unfairness of the situation, and how Bell had come to a decision without even discussing it with him. How she was forcing his hand in complying with her wishes.

 

He had eventually signed the papers for her to proceed, only because Adrian and Terence had convinced him to do so. Adrian couldn’t shake off the teeny bit of guilt he felt about that. He knew Marcus well enough to know that he would never have signed the papers on his own accord and would have fought Bell until the bitter end. 

 

Frustrated by the lack up updates, Adrian glanced at his watch again. How long did these procedures take, anyway? Would it kill Flint to spare a minute or two to fill them in on the situation? The Welcome Witch threw him an annoyed look and ordered him for the umpteenth time to sit down. And for the umpteenth time, Adrian ignored her. He was just too worked up to sit down. If something went wrong today, it would be his and Terence’s heads on the stake; Marcus was predictable like that. 

 

“Sit your arse down, mate,” Terence drawled and he lazily flicked the page of the newest edition of Witch Weekly, coincidentally featuring Marcus on the cover. “He’ll come for us when it’s done. They won’t let him stay with her forever; she’ll need to get back to school at one point.” 

 

“Aren’t you the tad bit worried? What if Flint snaps and tears down the whole ward or worse, takes the girl and Apparates somewhere where no one can find them?” Adrian asked, shocked by his friend’s blasé attitude. “This is Marcus we’re talking about.” 

 

Terence put down the magazine and stared at his friend. “Exactly my point. This is Flint, the lovesick fool. The cad is crazy about the chit; he wouldn’t do anything to upset her.” He picked up his magazine and without a care in the world, continued where he had left off. 

 

Adrian wished he had Terence’s confidence in Marcus’ ability to be mature about the situation. As it was, he hadn’t and continued his nervous pacing. Lost in thought, he didn’t notice the older woman march up to him until she blocked his path. She looked furious, and when she spoke, it was in clipped tones. 

 

“Excuse me, Mister Pucey.” 

 

Adrian blinked a few times, not sure why Marcus would send the Hogwarts matron. The situation was already uncomfortable as it was without having to face the old bird. Terence was by his side in a matter of milliseconds, frowning. Clearly, this wasn’t what he had expected either. 

 

“Y-yes?” Adrian answered, his voice a few octaves too high. How was it possible that he felt like a nervous pubescent boy each time he faced his former teachers and other Hogwarts personnel? 

 

_‘Get over yourself, you idiot. What can they do? Give you detention?’_

 

“Where are they?” Pomfrey snapped, her eyes darting between the two men and her hands on her hips. Several people turned their heads to see what was going on. 

 

“Where are who?” Terence asked in confusion. 

 

But Adrian already knew the answer. He wanted to be smug about it, yell at him for not taking him and his worries seriously. But he couldn’t and in the end, there was just one question repeating over and over again in his head.

  

_‘What have you done, Flint?’_

 *****KM*****

  

“I expect Miss Bell at the gates by nightfall. Do I make myself clear?” The stern face of his old Transfiguration professor told Marcus no to argue any further. He nodded in acceptance and bid his goodbyes to McGonagall before he closed the Floo connection. 

 

Feeling knackered after the week he had, he rubbed his stubbly face as he watched Katie sleep curled up under the covers on the sofa. It had been her idea to leave St. Mungo’s to talk in peace about what they were going to do now. They hadn’t gone far, both location and subject wise. She had wanted to go back to the manor, and even before they had been able to talk properly about what they were supposed to do now, she had promptly fallen asleep the minute he had turned his back. 

 

Marcus looked longingly at her and decided that he could do with a few hours’ kip himself even though time was ticking away. He swished his wand and enlarged the sofa enough to lie down next to her. He crawled under the covers and pulled her against his chest. Katie didn’t wake up, just murmured something, smacked her lips, and continued her slumber. Once she settled against him, he let out a happy sigh. This was where they belonged. 

 

Sleep didn’t come as easy as he had hoped. He lay awake, his hand flat with spread fingers on her stomach. The image he had seen earlier that morning was etched in his memory. If she hadn’t changed her mind, it would have stayed just that, a memory instead of living and growing within her. Marcus swallowed hard as the emotions became too much for him to handle. 

 

He had always known that having a child was something that was expected of him to continue the Flint line. But it had always been something of the future; something for when his Quidditch career was over and he’d have found the right woman to marry. In that exact order. Then Bell had crossed his path again and turned everything upside down. She was the one for him, something he had known the moment she’d come up to him at the Leaky. He had praised himself the luckiest man in the world when her lips touched his for the first time, even if it had been because of a dare. 

 

He had been sure that their last conversation had meant the end for them. He had been so angry with her, gutted that she would decide something like that without talking to him or asking him what he wanted. Higgs and Pucey had spoken to him, made him see it from her point of view. Although he hadn’t agreed with them, he was thankful that they had made him swallow his pride and urged him to be with her at St. Mungo’s. 

 

His hand slipped under her shirt, stroking the bare skin of her slightly rounded stomach. If he hadn’t memorised her body before, he wouldn’t have noticed the change. Katie stirred a bit at his ministrations. Afraid of waking her up, he stopped and lay still. Finally, his fatigue took over, and his eyes slowly closed. 

 

They would need their rest for the what awaited them later that day. 

 

*****KM*****

 

“Are you ready?” Katie asked nervously, clinging to Marcus’ arm. She felt sick to her stomach, and it wasn’t the morning sickness or the Apparating they had just done. No, it was the fact that they were standing outside of her home. Close to her parents. Her parents who didn’t know that they were about to become grandparents in a few months’ time. Her parents, who weren’t particularly fond of Marcus. 

 

Marcus swallowed hard, equally nervous as Katie. In the next few minutes, he would have to face Mister Bell again. If the man had been angry the last time they had ‘met’, he was bound to be livid this time around. He hoped that he would let him live long enough to see the baby’s birth. If not, he hoped that Katie would remember to name it after him. Yeah, that would be nice. 

 

“No,” he eventually mumbled. 

 

“Good, good,” Katie replied absentmindedly without having heard what he said. “Well then, let’s get this over with.” She took his hand and pulled him along the pebbled path to the front door. Her step faltered with each step they came closer. Bile rose in her throat, ready to leave her body as soon as she opened her mouth again. 

 

Marcus saw her reach to the door and wanted to stop her, tell her that he had changed his mind and that they should wait until she had received the results of her N.E.W.T. results later this summer. Or even better, until the baby was born. Yes, that was probably for the best. With the way he currently felt he saw no problem with that. But as it was, McGonagall had given them exactly until nightfall to inform the Bells of their decision and bring Katie back to school. Maybe, he should have asked the Deputy Headmistress to tell them on their behalf or give some advice on how to go about it. She must have some experience with these kinds of things. 

 

“Oh Gods,” Katie groaned and stepped to the side and vomited in her mother’s rosebushes. The stress was already too much, and she hadn’t faced her parents yet. 

 

Marcus rubbed her back, trying hard not to follow her action. She could hear him retch each time she did. That was promising for the future when the baby was born, she reckoned. The mere thought of the baby was enough for another spate of vomit. Maybe, she shouldn’t have eaten the bacon rolls Crumpet had made her earlier. It wouldn’t surprise her if the demon elf had poisoned her with something earlier.

 

“Are you done?” Marcus asked in concern. He hated seeing other people sick up since he usually followed soon after. She had done it a few times already since they had left St. Mungo’s that morning. Her attempt at reassurance that it was a part of being pregnant hadn’t been a reassurance at all. Was she going to do this until the baby was born? It didn’t seem healthy to him. Seeing her nod feebly in affirmation, he helped her back to her feet just as the door opened.

 

“What in heaven’s name is going on here?”

  

*****KM*****

 

The tension in the small living room was tangible. Howard and Carol watched the young couple on the sofa in growing confusion and unease. The agreement was that the Flint boy was welcome for dinner after Katie had finished Hogwarts. Not while she ought to be at school; she was in the middle of her exams, after all.

 

Howard cleared his throat to get the two talking, but both kept their eyes on the tea in their hands. Katie looked a bit green around the gills, and the bloody bastards didn’t look any better. What was going on here? Well, if they weren’t going to begin, he would.

 

“So, care to tell me why you and your,’ Howard took a deep breath and swallowed some choice words before he continued, ‘friend are here, darling? If I remember correctly, this isn’t a Hogsmeade weekend.”

 

“No, it isn’t,” Katie mumbled and kept her eyes trained on her cup whilst she grabbed Marcus’ clammy hand for support. An action that didn't go unnoticed by her parents judging by her father’s harrumphing.

 

“Then why, honey?” Carol offered another unwanted biscuit to everyone. She was the only one taking one, nervously nibbling on it as her eyes darted between her daughter and husband, pointedly ignoring Marcus. Any direct attention on him could set off Howard; it had taken her days to calm him down the last time.

 

Unfortunately, Marcus hadn’t received that memo and cleared his throat to talk. Carol’s frantic signals to keep quiet were lost on him.

 

“Well,” he started as he put his cup down and rolled his shoulders. They had practised earlier on how he should bring the news. At the same time, he was mentally going over the defence techniques he remembered from DADA classes in preparation for the news he was about to bring. “We’ve decided that Katie should move in with me, after her exams, of course.”

 

There was a brief silence.

 

“Oh, that’s a good one.” Carol chuckled and eyed her husband nervously. He sat stiffly in his chair, the nervous twitch of his moustache was the only sign that he hadn’t died of a sudden heart attack. Yet. “Don’t be silly, Mr Flint. She’s far too young for that sort of thing. Tell him, Katie, please.”

 

Katie inched closer to Marcus. Like her mother, she too had noticed her father’s nervous habit. The one giveaway that had always warned when she had or was about to overstep her boundaries. She was going to do that big time today.

 

“I am, Mum,” she confirmed quietly. “Moving in with Marcus, I mean.”

 

Carol groaned, trying to come up with something to say to change her mind. In the chair next to hers, Howard’s face slowly coloured an ugly shade of purple. He opened and closed his mouth a few times in an attempt to speak, but other than some strangled noises, nothing came out.

 

“Why?” Carol asked desperately. “You barely know each other and with the Harpies accepting you and all…” she trailed off. Her shoulders slumped when she saw her daughter’s hand move to her belly. Katie probably did not even notice that she was doing it.

 

Marcus squared his shoulders and put and arm around Katie. She looked up at him with a watery smile and nodded in encouragement. “We want to live together as soon as possible. At least before the, uhm, yeah- before February. It would be more appropriate that way.”

 

A dark, threatening growl started in Howard's his throat and his knuckles turned white as he balled his fists in his lap. Carol put her hand on his leg to calm him down, but he shook her off. “What makes February so special?” he asked through gritted teeth.

 

“Before February,” Marcus unwisely corrected him before he could catch himself. Sweat began dripping down his back when Mister Bell narrowed his eyes. He looked like he might cast an Unforgivable any minute now. That wasn’t promising; he hadn’t even got to the bigger part of their news yet. “And as to the why-”

 

A whimper escaped Katie, interrupting him. She smiled apologetically and inclined her head for him to continue when he cast her a side-eyed glance. She avoided looking at her parents, her focus solely on Marcus' lips.

 

“As I was saying,” he began again, “The reason it would be best to move in together before February is-”

 

Again, he was cut off by Katie. This time, she was crushing his hand so hard that he was sure that she broke something. He managed to pull his hand from her death grip. And again, she looked apologetic and nodded for him to continue.

 

“For the love of Merlin,” Howard bellowed as he threw his hands in the air in frustration. “Get on with it, boy. Why do you need to move in together before February?”

 

“I’m pregnant!” Katie blurted out before Marcus could say anything. Just like she had wanted to do when her mother had opened the door earlier. She couldn’t stand the tension anymore, which was even worse than her oral Potions exam with Snape. “Eleven weeks already. And I’m keeping it,” she added hastily.

 

When her parents remained silent in disbelief, stressing her out even more with their glassy stares, she sicked up on Marcus’ shoes. But it was his ‘fuck’ that finally snapped them out of their shock.

 

“What did you just say?”


	19. The end or the beginning?

Katie studied herself over in the mirror as she twirled around. The light blue dress was beautiful in its simplicity, no doubt about that. Her mother had chosen well, probably with some assistance of Mrs Flint. It was just a shame that it was a far cry from the lacy white princess dress with veil and tiara Katie had always imagined she'd wear.

 

In fact, the whole day hadn’t been as she had imagined her wedding would be. There wasn't a huge cake, nor were there dozens of bridesmaids. The fairy-tale-like venue where they should have celebrated until deep into the night with hundreds of guests was, in reality, the smallest dining room at Flint Manor. Only a handful of direct relatives and friends were present. At least they had their binding ceremony and celebratory drinks at Gretna Green, in a draughty dimly lit backroom, no larger than her father's broom shed. But still, it was, well, something.

 

Marcus had promised that they would have a do-over one day. She just needed to remember that and perhaps already start planning. Sometime during the summer next year maybe.

 

She poked her barely visible belly with an ink-stained finger and tried to suck it in, to no avail. That was the only fault she could find with the dress; the delicate silk fabric accentuated her stomach area little too much for her liking. During yesterday's check up with Pomfrey, she was told her that the baby was already bigger than average. Since then, Katie hadn't been able to shake off the idea that she was going to end up giving birth to a half-giant.

 

Her shoulders sagged in disappointment after another unsuccessful attempt to hold in her stomach. She cupped her slight curve to measure. There was no way that she'd be able to finish the Harpies training camp without someone finding out her secret before she wanted them to. It seemed such a good idea at the time to keep her pregnancy under wraps until the start of a new Quidditch season, but now it just seemed plain stupid. Who was she trying to fool?

 

"Sodding Flint and his troll genes," she muttered in annoyance as she looked down her body.

 

"You better come out looking like me, understand? That would be a very nice way of thanking me for postponing my career. And honestly, I'm much prettier than your father is. Believe me on that one. You'll know what I mean when you get to meet him."

 

Katie looked up in embarrassment when she heard someone chuckle. Her father stood in the door opening, leaning against the frame with crossed arms and watching her with a wistful smile. They hadn't had the time to talk to each other alone, not since that faithful Friday two weeks ago.

 

He had been furious with them. In fact, he had been so upset that he had walked out and hadn't returned until she had gone back to school later that night. She hadn't blamed him then, still didn't now. The whole situation had been hard for them all. She could only imagine her own reaction if her daughter were to come home with such news.

 

_'Better not think about that.'_

 

Katie shook her head to rid of the image and focus on her father. Although he had refused to be involved with anything that had to do with the wedding, she was thankful that he was here today.

 

"You look beautiful, baby girl," he told her softly as he unfolded his arms and took a hesitant step towards her. "Reminds me of that time your Nan Marie made you that pink dress for your sixth birthday. You spent hours in front of the mirror just twirling around and dancing with Wabbit. That toy bunny was your first Prince Charming, remember?"

 

"Yeah," she chuckled, "It was a beautiful dress and Wabbit was ever so handsome with his snow-white fur."

 

Katie felt relieved that her father was talking to her in a normal fashion and mirrored his action of coming closer. "Mum must have an album full of pictures of those days. Didn't I sleep in that dress? I remember something like that."

 

"Slept in it, played in it, even refused to take it off under the shower, you drove us mad. Nothing we said or did could make you change your mind. Headstrong you were, even then," Howard trailed off.

 

"Dad…"

 

"Your mother burnt that dress out of desperation, you know. We told you that the ghoul in the cellar had stolen it. You didn't accept that easily, of course. You marched right down there and started screaming at it to give back your dress, swinging your little fists at it. Of course, he just ignored you while you started screaming louder and louder. It took us ages to console you."

 

"I can't remember that part," Katie mumbled and turned around to study herself again in the mirror. She wasn't that little girl anymore; she was a married woman now and in about months' time she would have a baby of her own. It still felt unreal and very scary.

 

"A lot has changed since those days, hasn't it?"

 

Howard nodded in reply and considered his daughter for a minute, debating with himself if he should say something. The past two weeks had been hell on him. Whilst his wife had been running around to put a last-minute wedding together with that stuck-up Flint woman, he had been moping around. He had refused to get involved or even accept that this was happening. His Katie deserved better, not a wedding at wand point because she made a mistake.

 

A mistake that bound her to that daughter-stealing and innocence-corrupting bastard. Howard had vowed that he would make the arse pay as soon as he got his chance. He'd already promised himself that he wasn't going to put any effort in getting to know the prick; he already knew the sod's father from their Hogwarts days. The apple and the tree came to mind as far as he was concerned.

 

"Are you alright, Daddy?"

 

Howard smiled sadly. At least he was still her 'daddy'. He took a deep breath and asked the question he needed to ask,

 

"Are you sure about this, love? It's not too late. The clerk hasn't owled to papers to the Ministry yet. He's still drinking at the bar. We'll memory-charm him, nick the papers, and burn them. I can get you out of here and tell the guests that the party is off. They'll understand, don't worry. We'll arrange something with the Flints for visitation and whatnot if you must. Think about it; you have many options to make this right."

 

" _We_ wanted to wait, remember?" Katie scowled at her father as she crossed her arms. This was not the reassurance she had hoped for. "You were the one who threatened him into marrying me the minute I left for school. You even got Mister Flint on your side to harass Marcus into agreeing to talk me into this. Have you changed your mind?"

 

"Well, yes. I hadn't expected you to agree and for all of this to go so fast. Merlin, you were still taking your exams this morning. I thought you would wait another few months, years, and would see…" he trailed off, not sure how to put his thoughts into words.

 

"You thought I would change my mind once I got to know him better? Is that it?" Katie sighed, disappointed that her father still hadn't changed his mind about Marcus. "Dad, I know that it's too soon, and Marcus knows it as well. We still need to get to know each better. But, he is a good man. I like him very much, and he likes me. I'm having his baby; we're doing this."

 

"Exactly!" Howard exclaimed. "You like him. You don't love him. Are you willing to spend the rest of your life with someone you merely like because he got you up the duff?"

 

"Who says I don't love him?" she asked confused.

 

"You just did," Howard replied smugly.

 

Katie shook her head. "If you wouldn't have interrupted me, I would have continued to say that I love him. Very much, I think. Do you know when I first realised that? It was when he, despite his objections, still came to St. Mungo's to support me. It killed him to sign the papers, Daddy. He bawled his eyes out. But he still did because it was what I wanted at the time. And he was there to stand by me."

 

The memory of that day still brought tears to her eyes and her hand went unwillingly to her belly where their child was growing. "We're not the kind of couple for sweet words, Dad. But when I, when we say it, it's because we mean it."

 

Howards clenched his fists, his face hard. He had learnt after the fact why Katie had been out of school the day she had come by with the bastard to talk to them. He had raged and complained to Dumbledore about not informing them sooner about their daughter's situation. Only to be told that his daughter was of age and the medical procedure she had requested in the first place fell under the Healer-patient privilege.

 

"We're married now, Dad. Please, accept that," Katie pleaded. When he didn't respond, she walked over to her father and hugged him tightly.

 

"But I promise, if he ever hurts me, I'll give you the honours to hex his balls off make him wear them as earrings. You can even teach me a few spells for when you're not around."

 

Howard laughed through his tears, not sure if he should be appalled or proud by her choice of words. "I'll hold you to that, baby girl."

 

Katie stepped away from him after a kiss on his cheek and straightened herself out. "Are you ready to escort me to dinner? We can't keep our guests waiting."

 

*****KM*****

 

Angelina leant back in her chair, nearly comatose from the overindulgence in food and wine. She watched the people around her from underneath heavy-lidded eyes, still trying to comprehend what had happened today.

 

She was at the wedding of her best friend to Marcus Flint. If someone had told her seven and a half months ago that a night of drinking at the Leaky would end like this, she would have declared them mad. Little Katie Bell: married and up the duff. Of course, no one had spoken openly about the latter, but it wasn't exactly Advanced Arithmancy; Angie could put two and two together, and now Ally owed her fifty Galleons.

 

Although she loathed doing so, Angelina had to admit that whatever their reasons were for the sudden wedding, they were a sweet sight to behold. Flint, still somewhat shitfaced from his stag night, looked almost handsome in his dark blue groom's robes. He had his eyes and hands on Katie all the time. She couldn't blame him; if she had been in his shoes, she, too, would have been scared that the bride would flee the first chance she got.

 

Katie was the same, though, a mile-wide grin graced her flushed face. Ever since the second course, she had settled herself against Flint's chest and was in no hurry to leave his side any time soon. Merlin, he had even escorted her to the loo. Judging by their ruffled looks upon their return, though, they hadn't actually gone for a piss.

 

Currently, the happy couple were listening to Sally Flint's yakking about how fantastic Spain was and how much they would enjoy themselves in the family's holiday home for their honeymoon. Seeing the horrified looks on Marcus' and Katie's faces, the woman wasn't talking about the warm weather and beautiful beaches.

 

Aurelius Flint sat by and eagerly nodded along with everything his wife had to say, adding his two Knuts every now then and scaring the newlyweds even more. The man seemed to enjoy flustering his new daughter-in-law.

 

Laughing to herself, Angie shifted her gaze to Mister and Missus Bell, who were in deep discussion with Fred and George about the joke shop and how the Ministry's new laws and regulations affected business owners. She didn't even try to eavesdrop; even from afar the dullness of the subject nearly put her to sleep. The twins were fun and all socially, but when it came to business, they easily equalled Percy with their long narratives and in-depth analyses on the current economic situation. Ally was still too busy with stuffing ice-cream into her mouth to pay any attention to her boyfriend, or anyone else for that matter. In fact, she hadn’t spoken more than a few words the whole day, her expression emotionless. Maybe there was something wrong. Angie decided that further investigation would be needed there.

 

At the end of the table sat Marcus' aunt and her family. Mister Bulstrode wasn't much to look at with his square built and beady eyes. However, although clearly sick, his wife was beautiful, like her sister. Their daughter Millicent sat at the very end, just staring at her empty plate and chewing on her lip, no doubt still hungry after her mother had portioned her meals.

 

Angelina remembered Pudgy from school; she still looked as unhappy as she had back then. To add to her misery, the poor thing wore a frock that was a size or two too small. Angie doubted that it had been her choice to wear it. Or to be here in the first place.

 

Her parents were talking to Terence and Sophia Higgs, completely ignoring their daughter, just like almost everyone else. Angelina had only seen Marcus and Katie converse with to her before Sally Flint had claimed their attention. She felt sorry for the girl and decided to sit with her to have a chat, apologise in not so many words for making fun of her back in the day.

 

Just as she was about to stand up, she felt a heavy hand on her leg. Pucey, how could she have forgotten? She hadn't talked to him in nearly a month, not since he had shown up at her flat, completely arseholed, and making demands, mucking up everything in the process. They had an agreement, for heaven's sake.

 

"Meet me in the garden in five minutes," he whispered in her ear and stood up, excusing himself to the rest for needing to use the loo.

 

Angelina contemplated if she should follow him. She already knew what he wanted: apologise and tell her that he wanted to try again. As always, she'd let him squirm for a while and then forgive him so that they could continue in the same way. She mentally shrugged; it was all right with her. This arrangement had worked for them for almost two years already, why change it now.

 

As soon as she was sure that it wouldn't be all too obvious, she excused herself. Like with Adrian, no one noticed her leaving. Except for Sophia Higgs, that is. The way she looked at her made Angelina shudder. Apparently, she wasn't forgiven yet. One case of mistaken identity and she was on the hex-list of one of the craziest witches of her generation. Seriously, though, it could have happened to anyone.

 

It wasn't difficult to spot Adrian in the magnificent garden. He was watching the stars in the night sky, his tie askew, sleeves rolled up and his hands in his pockets. Angie halted a moment to admire him from a distance. He looked as handsome as ever, something she would never admit, and she realised that she had missed him. Even when he drove her up the walls at times, he had become a too important part of her life to cast aside without a second thought.

 

Not that she could without unleashing her parents' fury even if she'd wanted to.

 

"You wanted to speak to me?" she asked him haughtily when she came closer, ready to play along. "What do you want?"

 

He didn't look at her when he answered and kept on stargazing. "Marcus managed to snag up a girl, can you believe it?"

 

Angelina sniggered. "Afraid that you're becoming an old maid, Pucey? Don't worry, the only reason Katie's going through with it is that he got her up the duff. There is still hope for you."

 

"You don't think they'll last, then?"

 

"No." She frowned; she hadn't meant to blurt it out like that. But no, she didn't think they would last. "She'll come to her senses sooner or later. When she starts playing professionally next year, they'll die out like a candle in the wind."

 

Adrian scoffed and finally turned his gaze to her, offering her a wry smile. It was too easy to rile him up. She could see that he wanted to say something, and she was ready to counter him. She loved this part of their game.

 

To her surprise, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of parchment. She knew what it was, had memorised every word in it after the first time her mother had shoved it under her nose.

 

She had expected him to rant on about it, demand that she would finally honour it. He did neither of those things. Instead, he pulled his wand and set it on fire. The burning piece of paper drifted to the ground. The binding magic it once held evaporated before their eyes.

 

"What are you doing?" Angelina screeched. Panic rose within her. He couldn't do this; there were agreements in place.

 

"Father is visiting your parents tonight. It's done, Johnson. Thank Merlin, we're finally done." There was no emotion on his face or in his voice as he spoke. He shoved his hands in his pockets as he looked up at the stars again.

 

When the fire died down, he kicked the ashes, scattering them in the wind, and walked back inside to celebrate that his friend got the girl of his dreams.

 

Angelina grabbed his arm as he passed her. "What are you talking about? Is this some trick to get me to do what you want? I'm not falling for it, you git."

 

"The betrothal is off; we're done."

 

He didn't spare her a second glance or offer further explanation. He shook his arm free from her grasp and walked inside. For the first time since their tentative agreement, he didn't turn around when she called out to him. He had humiliated himself enough times to honour the contract. He was done pretending and put his life on hold. For the first time in years, he was free from her and her whimsical wishes.

 

The worst part was that he had no idea what he was supposed to do with his life.

 

"No, no, no," she started whispering to herself, still trying to process his words. "You are supposed to wait for me. You promised to wait for me."

 

Angelina never went back to the party that night, didn't see a beaming Marcus and Katie snog each other silly before they left for their honeymoon. She didn't witness the screaming match between Howard Bell and Aurelius Flint after their children had left or how the twins encouraged both men from the side-lines. She never heard how Sophia spewed venom about her to Lucille Bulstrode and Sally Flint or saw how Alicia tried to hex the woman into silence.

 

All Angelina did that night was crying in her father's arms as her mother scolded her for ruining their plans. She didn't hear any of it, though, all she cared about was how to figure out was what had been the last straw for Adrian and how she was going to make amends with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A big thank you to everyone who has read, followed, liked, and even commented on this little story of mine. 
> 
> See you next time!


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